


Around the Moon and the Sun

by kibasniper



Category: Super Danganronpa Another 2 - Fandom, Super Danganronpa Another 2 ~ Moon of Hope and Sun of Despair~
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, F/F, Ficlet Collection, Gen, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2020-11-26 09:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 28,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20928143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: A collection of ficlets for Super Danganronpa Another 2.





	1. Reassurance I'll Be There - Hibiki/Setsuka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the second trial, Hibiki realizes she can't trust anyone. When Setsuka knocks on her door, she's more than surprised by what she has to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Missing Scene, Spoilers, references to the second chapter's culprit and victim, Bonding, Promises, Developing Relationship, Trust Issues, Worry, Anxiety, i headcanon hibiki having trichotillomania which is why she starts off pulling at her hair when she's anxious.

Hibiki tugged through her hair, a few stray tresses getting yanked out when she pulled her hand away. She covered her mouth and screwed her eyes shut, feeling like her insides were writhing. A vein popped up in her brow, threatening to burst from the stress she endured. All she could do was suck down sharp breaths as memories taunted her thoughts.

Kokoro had been a kind girl. She was mysterious, strange, and more of a loner than she liked, but she had been the one to successfully lead them in the first trial. She didn’t deserve to be killed in such a gruesome, agonizingly slow manner with her body freezing in such a cramped space.

And it had all happened because of her concert! Along with Kanade, she opened herself up to the others with a grand concert and look at what happened! Emma betrayed them and murdered Kokoro. All of her acting skills had come to the forefront in such deception that it made Hibiki sick to her stomach, and it took all of her willpower to not vomit during Emma’s execution.

She couldn’t trust anyone. Even though she proclaimed the only one she could trust Kanade, she couldn’t tell what her sister was thinking. There was always a gleam of distrust burning in her eyes. Even if she was always obeying Hibiki and bowing down when reprimanded, she couldn’t be fully trusted in a killing game when anyone could be a victim.

After ordering Kanade to leave her alone for the night, she paced around in her room and tugged at her hair. Stress swelled inside of her like a balloon, filling her organs and bloodstream with anxiety racing throughout her. She gnawed on her lower lip and let tears spill down her cherubic cheeks. At least she could weep in peace, the waves cresting against the ship the only sound soothing her.

Hibiki was shoved her out of her stupor when someone knocked on her door. She flinched and gripped her shoulders. She waited, silencing her breathing and hoping whoever it was would leave. The knocking continued, more rapid than before, each knock like a drum beat compelling her to amble closer. Peering through the peephole, she grimaced as a swathe of blue hair filled her view.

“Go away!” she bellowed, her throat aching. “I don’t want to talk!”

A pause.

Setsuka resumed knocking.

Growling, she slouched and snatched the doorknob. With white-knuckled intensity, she threw the door open, barking, “I said I don’t wanna talk! Are your ears filled with wax?”

Setsuka held her hands up, showing she was unarmed. Lowering them, she sighed and said, “I wanted to check on you, Biki.”

“Oh, really?” She glanced around her, spotting only the barren hallway. “And what if I step outside? Is there a trap set up for me?”

“There isn’t. Look…” She pointed at the carpeted floor. “...I’ll stand right here, and you can stay in your room. How does that sound?”

Furrowing her brow, she spat, “You could rush in here with a hidden weapon like a knife or something. I’m not stupid.” She jabbed her finger at Setsuka’s nose. “If you wanna talk, then stand by the wall!”

To her surprise, Setsuka backed up. She pressed her palms to wall and stared at Hibiki. Squaring her shoulders, she grinned and asked, “How’s this?”

Grumbling, she admitted it was fine. She clutched the doorknob, preparing to slam it in her face at the slightest uncertainty. Narrowing her eyes, she demanded to know what she wanted.

“I know today was tough, probably even tougher than what happened with the first trial,” Setsuka started, causing Hibiki to roll her eyes, “and come on, I’m trying to be serious.”

“I know,” Hibiki huffed, crossing her arms, “but I don’t wanna hear it. You’re gonna say something like ‘we all have to work together so it won’t happen again’ or whatever.”

“No. That’s not at all what I was gonna say.” Setsuka brushed through her hair. “I want you to know that I’m here for you, Biki. If you need someone to talk to or vent, I’m here for you.” She tapped her knuckles to her chest and grinned. “Big sis is gonna look out for everyone. I want you to know that if you have any kind of problem, come to me. I’ll help you.”

Her cheeks darkened to the hue of her hair. Hibiki felt her grip on her elbows loosen, her brave front wavering. She swallowed as Setsuka came closer with her hands exposed. Her throat tightened, expecting those hands to wrap around her neck and squeeze the life out of her. The urge to scream tried to rise out of her, but behind trembling lips, she couldn’t make a sound.

Setsuka cupped her shoulders and smiled. She tilted her head, rubbing gentle circles into her skin and saying, “I’ll always be around, Biki. Don’t forget that, ‘kay?”

A quiet gasp escaped her. Her eyes widened as Setsuka pulled away, keeping her palms turned for her to see. She watched Setsuka pivot on her heels and walked to her own dorm, leaving the silence tangible between them. She swallowed as the billiards player vanished around the corner, her footsteps becoming softer until she could no longer hear them.

Closing the door behind her, Hibiki allowed a tiny smile to grace her face. As her heart pounded and dispelled her worries, she thought that maybe, maybe she could trust someone as kind as Setsuka.


	2. Reassurance I'll Be There - Hibiki/Setsuka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After setting up breakfast, Mikado realizes he has an early morning guest standing behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Missing Scene, Spoilers, Questioning, Suspicions

Mikado rubbed his hands, his gloves wrinkling. He surveyed the assortment of breakfast items he prepared, the smell of freshly baked bread making him feel calm. It was arduous work taking care of meals every morning, ensuring every bit of food was filled with care for his classmates. After all, he couldn’t have them investigating on empty stomachs.

Sighing, he went to leave the dining room only to hum. If his expression properly expressed his feelings, then he would have been gasping, his eyes widening. Instead, he seemed to stare through the other boy as if he were a ghost, but he felt his heart pounding against his ribs, an odd panging following each beat.

“It’s too early for you to be awake,” Mikado said, waving his finger. “The morning announcement isn’t supposed to come on for at least five more minutes. What brings you down here, Yuki?”

Yuki didn’t reply. He surveyed the trays and dishes, each of them intricate and delicate. Freshly brewed coffee wafted to his nostrils, mingling comfortably with the sugary scent of the strawberry and apple tarts. He stepped closer, his expression a mask of neutrality, one which Mikado couldn’t help but notice.

“Oh! Would you like to have breakfast with me before the others arrive?” Mikado clenched his fists and laughed. “It’s been too long since I’ve shared a meal with someone. Why don’t I get you some-?”

When Yuki came closer, his shadow crossed over Mikado. A shiver ran up the magician’s spine, but he hid it well. The air changed, the once saccharine and warm scents freezing over in mere seconds. He maintained his composure as Yuki’s footsteps came to a quiet end, until he was right in front of him.

Yuki’s eyes narrowed into serpentine slits. Irritability creased his brow, causing the sweat which had dampened it to trickle down his cheeks. He clutched his hip, his mouth trembling with something to say, but all he could do was focus on Mikado’s face.

A curious light ignited in Mikado. He felt like smiling, sensing something palpable emanating off of Yuki. It wasn’t perfect nor was it time, but he knew it was coming. He offered his hand and brushed it over Yuki’s bony knuckles, his skin feeling like leather as Mikado dared to stroke his thumb over his hand.

“You’ve almost awakened,” he murmured and drew away, a fleeting worry itching the back of his mind, chastising him for acting as if someone as lowly as him had any right to touch him. He knew his dead associates would certainly think that way. Chuckling, he lowered his voice and added, “Hajime, Emma, and Nikei would have killed again and again to see this moment.”

Yuki twitched and dropped his hand. He streaked his fingers through his hair, the layers of sweat and grease making his palm sticky. He breathed out sharply and pivoted on his heels, his shoulders curving forward to give him a rounded appearance. Furrowing his brow, he shot a glare at Mikado, but the question he wanted to ask remained trapped behind closed lips.

Mikado sighed and pressed his hand over his heart and said, “If you’re like this, then everything is going according to plan.” He stepped forward, his cape flipping behind as he clutched Yuki’s hand. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed it chastely, and Yuki did nothing to stop him. “You should give yourself time to freshen up. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to come to breakfast looking unwell.”

Yuki pulled his hand away and inspected it as if he had been wounded. He rubbed his chipped fingernails and whispered, “Why me?”

Mikado tilted his head.

“The Voids targeted me. Why?” Words rasped out of him. He shuddered and rubbed his eyes, weariness plaguing him, and he shook his head. “I’m no one special, really, I’m not, but you…”

Mikado mulled over the question and let the seconds pass them when Yuki trailed off. He closed his eyes and sighed. Understanding that he needed more time, more despair to settle in his heart, Mikado gestured for him to return to his room.

Yuki stumbled back to the door, his breathing shallow. His thoughts were in disarray as Mikado guided him through the maze halls and stairs, his hand squeezing his shoulder in a strangely reassuring way. He couldn’t make sense of his actions and allowed himself to be returned to his dorm, the silencing hanging heavily between them.

Mikado opened his door with a snap of his fingers, a magic circle appearing around the doorknob and twisting it. Throwing his arm out, he bowed, appearing like a servant to his prince. Yuki leered at him with the same irritability as before, but solemness crept into his expression. Mikado glanced at him and for the first time, the corners of his lips curled into his cheek, bliss lighting his face. It was enough for Yuki’s eyes to snap open, all traces of weariness gone, the serenity of their moment vanishing.

“I will not stop until I meet you,” was all Mikado said as Yuki tumbled into his room, the door shutting quietly between him with a soft click.


	3. Last Chance To See The Stars - Nikei & Hajime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikei happens upon Hajime stargazing the night before the big party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Stargazing, During Canon, Missing Scene, Friendship, Teasing, Frustration, spoilers for void identities and chapter one, Tumblr Prompt.

“So, you’re up first, huh?”

Hajime rested his elbows against the handrail and gazed out at the sea. Breathing in the crisp seasalt, he nodded and said, “Yep. I mean, that’s what we decided.”

Nikei hummed and scratched through his hair. He gazed out at the sea, the water appearing murkier in the darkness. He couldn’t make out any traces of seaweed, sea creatures, or Mikado when he squinted, a sigh escaping him when he realized it was only them.

“Any idea who you’ll be targeting?” He copied Hajime’s hunched posture, crossing his ankles and tilting his head. He examined his face, noting the lack of sunglasses and almost chuckled. It would have been foolish for him to wear them at midnight, even if Hajime adored them.

Hajime curled a lock of hair behind his ear and shrugged. “I mean, I have an idea of what I want to do, but you know-” He flicked his head at the entrance. “-it’s not like I can give away my plan.”

Groaning, Nikei rubbed his temples. It had been such a stupid clause in Mikado’s plot. The Voids weren’t allowed to share their murder plans with each other. He claimed it would have put the entire operation in jeopardy, and if he found out, then he would do to them what he had done to that redhead in the very beginning. None of them were willing to push for answers with such a threat strangling them from behind, leaving Nikei with a pit in his stomach, his desire between journalistic integrity and preserving his life in the balance.

“That bastard, what a stupid rule.” Nikei turned around and pressed his back into the railing. “We’re Voids. We should be able to communicate with each other.”

Hajime glanced over his shoulder as if someone was listening in on them and shook his head. “You’re still salty about losing your leadership position, huh?”

“That’s-!” Nikei bit his tongue and winced. His cheeks flushed red as Hajime laughed, his merry tone carried by the wind. Crossing his arms, he tugged at his long coat and snarled, “I didn’t lose my position. We all decided diplomatically that Mikado would be in charge of this scheme since it was his idea.”

Hajime shrugged his large shoulders and let his gaze drift to the stars. Nikei rubbed through his scalp, his observant glance taking careful notice of every little detail. Hajime’s eyes searched the stars, surveying the faraway dots as if he could touch them. His lips were creased, but Nikei didn’t sense any form of disdain from his comrade. He seemed relaxed, a stark difference from the postures he assumed in the past when he was ready to knock anyone out without warning.

“Hey, are you ready for this?” Nikei wondered, tilting his hat up.

Hajime straightened, his eyes widening. He tightened his grip on the railing only to heave out a sigh, his worries leaving him in that breath. Returning his attention to the stars, he said, “You know I have to be. For what we all endured, you, me, Emma, Iroha, we all said we’d be ready to kill no matter what.”

His lips twisted into a smirk. “Yeah, yeah, I know that. I was only...asking.”

“Concerned for your underlings?” Hajime jeered, earning a glare in return.

“Shut up. It’s not like you’re gonna get executed.” Nikei snickered and let his attention wander to the velvet black sky. “I also didn’t expect you to care about the stars. That’s Yuri’s shtick.”

“Hey, since I’m gonna be holed up in the control room after I get caught, I thought it’d be good to get one last look. Probably not gonna see the night sky for a while anyway.” He grimaced, his brow furrowing. “Damn it. I just realized it’s probably gonna get unhealthy in there. The air quality is gonna be shit.”

“Mikado installed A/C. You’ll be fine, you big baby,” Nikei sneered, reveling in Hajime’s agitation. “I bet he’ll magic you up a gym so you can work out to your heart’s content.”

“He better. It’ll get stuffy in there fast,” he grumbled, Nikei laughing as he hung his head.

Patting Hajime’s shoulder, he pivoted on his heels and said, “You should get to bed, though. You have a big day tomorrow.”

“The party’s tomorrow, too. That’ll be fun,” Hajime said as Nikei started walking towards the doors.

Grabbing the doorknob, he looked over his shoulder, his hat shadowing his expression. Hajime didn’t turn around nor did he make any move to indicate he was leaving. Closing his eyes, he tore open the door and tried ignoring the stabbing sensation in his chest when it slammed shut behind him.


	4. Curious Fascination - Kokoro & Kanade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kokoro is drawn to Kanade for a reason she chalks up to pure intrigue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Tumblr Prompt, During Canon, Friendship, Developing Relationship, Bonding, Breakfast.

Kokoro had to admit she was interested in Kanade. While she kept her own feelings buried, she found Kanade’s emotions worn on her sleeve. There was always a strange sparkle in her bright pink eyes, something Kokoro thought signified something more, something deeper, a mystery Kanade refused to let anyone understand.

Being a psychologist, Kokoro felt the urge to experiment. She wanted to understand the puzzles who were her fellow Ultimates, and Kanade provided the most curious case of them all. While she had intrigue towards others such as Mikado and Sora, she had a compulsion towards her, something she couldn’t put her finger on about Kanade and decided to settle her inquiry.

Choosing to sit between her and Hibiki had given Kokoro a proper reason to interact with her. Kanade’s eyes had widened, but she didn’t object to the intrusion, unlike her sister. Hibiki had snapped that she wasn’t welcome around them, but the savior of her experiment came in the form of the Ultimate Actress. Emma had ushered Hibiki towards her by promising to give her half of her breakfast omelette, giving Kokoro a supportive wink when she whisked Hibiki away. It seemed she hadn’t quite given up on being her best friend, but she was delighted to have the chance to speak one on one with Kanade, even though she internally insisted she was not going to make friends with her.

“G-good morning, Kokoro. Um…” Kanade folded her hands on her lap. She glanced at her breakfast, which consisted of two pieces of toast and a bowl of steamed rice. “...wh-what made you want to sit next to me?”

Setting her iPad on the table, she picked up her morning coffee, sipped the scalding black liquid, and sighed. Squaring her shoulders, she said, “Curiosity.”

Kanade seemed to stare through her as if the word was foreign. She repeated it, touching her chin and tilting her head. A small smile pressed into her round cheeks, her eyes lighting up with an emotion Kokoro couldn’t place.

“I see, I see,” Kanade murmured, setting her knuckles to her cheek and her elbow on the table, “what kind of curiosity are you feeling?”

Her shyness was replaced with interest, a shift Kokoro noted. Regular people would have been wary, but Kanade seemed to welcome her. She thought Kanade’s closeness with her sister would have caused her to resist her imminent line of questioning.

Pushing her glasses up, she said, “Pure intrigue. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Giggling, Kanade shrugged one shoulder. She laced her fingers under her chin and batted her long eyelashes, allowing Kokoro to examine the shimmering eyeshadow rimming her eyelids. “Well, you did have Sis nudged away for this opportunity! Go ahead, go ahead, ask whatever you want, and I’ll answer.”

As Kanade snatched a piece of toast and munched on it, Kokoro found herself drawn to her sudden exuberance. People normally shielded their feelings behind lies and excuses. Kanade acted as if she had nothing to hide. Kokoro sensed confidence and poise emanating off of her like an aura, her eyes burning with several emotions, all of them tickled with amusement.

“What did you do last night?” she asked, attempting to sound casual and friendly. 

“Sis and I were working on a new song. It’s, well, it’s not that great. There still needs to be a lot of fine tuning, but it will be,” Kanade chirped only to gasp. “By the way, have you heard any Melody Rhythm songs?”

Kokoro slowly nodded, her chin dipping to her chest. “I have. The song ‘Be Still, Beating Love’ is quite a lovely ballad. Your guitar riffs really keep the song together.”

“Aw, that was one of our first hits. Our original producer put it out as our third single, and it was number one on the charts for two whole months,” Kanade explained, leaning back in her seat. She glanced over to Hibiki, who was eagerly gobbling up her half of Emma’s omelette, saying, “Sis came up with the lyrics, and I came up with the melody.” Sighing, she slipped her fingers around her cup of green tea and closed her eyes. “Most people focus on Sis’ lyrics and vocals. Hearing someone appreciating my playing, though, that’s really something special.”

Kokoro’s heart skipped a beat. She wished Kanade’s eyes were open so she could examine that emotion. Her voice was soft, filled with gentleness she hadn’t known. To have such a tone while enduring a killing game, it made Kokoro’s interest grow.

“Hey, Kanade, hurry up! I already finished my meal and wanna explore the island! I don’t have time to wait for my stupid slowpoke sister!” Hibiki snapped, shooting out her chair and leaving Emma to clean up.

Yelping, Kanade stuffed both slices of toast into her mouth and bobbed her head. She seemed to be choking as she hurried after Hibiki, who didn’t bother waiting for her as she stormed off. She left behind her rice and tea, her crying voice becoming a whisper as she trailed after Hibiki.

As Kanade stumbled away, Kokoro returned to her iPad, a tiny grin playing on her face. She certainly had her curiosity piqued, believing that her relationship with Kanade would be something quite interesting for her to explore.


	5. Humor Goes A Long Way - Emma & Syobai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma tries winning Syobai over with puns as they explore the mart on the second island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Bonding, Friendship, Puns, Humor, Tumblr Prompt, slight spoilers since it mentions emma being a void, *monocrow voice* pay for your food syobai or i am going to peck you to death

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma finally spotted Syobai. She had been searching for him all over the second island, but to her surprise, he hadn’t noticed her. He was usually more observant, spotting the other Ultimates before they had a chance to react to his presence. He seemed to be scanning the aisles, focusing on the sundry items as if they somehow held any meaning.

Taking a breath, Emma squeezed her hand over her heart. She knew she had to uncover something new about him. Compared to others like Kokoro and the former Ultimate Merchant, he provided the greatest threat to the Void’s mission. His unruly, unpredictable nature made even Mikado wary of him, his true intentions always hidden behind sneers and the walls he built between himself and others.

Breaking into a smile, she turned around the corner. Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as she called, “Oh, Syobai! Fancy seeing you here. I-eh?”

Her grin faded. She lowered her hand back to her side as Syobai slipped a bottle of soy sauce-flavored cola into his coat. He raised his head, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. They stared at each other, neither of them making a move for what felt like an eternity until Syobai pivoted on his heels, causing Emma to flinch.

She reached out for him. “O-oh, hold on a minute, Syobai! Let’s-”

“Get lost, beauty queen. I’m not in the mood,” he spat, vanishing into another aisle.

Frowning, Emma shook her head. She knew he was abrasive, but stealing in broad daylight was too much. Following after him, she watched him sort through large bags of pretzels. She sauntered up to him, her shadow crossing over his as he plucked a bag of honey wheat pretzels from the counter.

“Shouldn’t you be pissing off by now?” he snarled, ripping the bag open.

“Shouldn’t you be paying for your items instead of stuffing them in your jacket like a hooligan?” she countered, tilting her head and gripping her hips.

He scoffed, a puff of air slipping past his chapped lips. “You think the Ultimate Broker is gonna pay for this shit? Look at this.” He opened his coat and flicked the bottle of cola, the plastic bouncing at the slightest touch. “This right here? It’s been out of stock for years now. It’s a favorite of some...business associates I got in Hong Kong. They’d pay big bucks for this drink even if it’s just one bottle.”

Humming, Emma nodded and tried to hide her disbelief. As if a single cola would be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. She wrinkled her nose as he stuffed his hand inside the pretzel bag and pulled out a handful. He munched on them noisily, the sound offensive to her ears, but she had a mission to accomplish and refused to be deterred by his crunching.

She glanced over her shoulder and grinned. She plucked a jar off the shelf and asked, “Oh, Syobai, what does a nosy pepper do?”

He grunted, his brows furrowing. He swallowed and stared at her, his lips pursed into a deep frown. If she expected him to reply, then he wasn’t going to play her game.

“Get jalapeno business!” she exclaimed, pressing the jar of jalapenos to her cheek. She laughed, her honeyed tone overpowering the buzzing lights above them. Her shoulders quaked, and she quickly put the jar back, feeling like she would drop it in her amused stupor.

“Awful,” Syobai mumbled, rolling up the bag and shaking his head.

Her jaw clenched in place when he pierced through her delight. Simple puns wouldn’t win him over. She racked her brain for other jokes and glanced at the other items on the shelves, but even though she could have thought of hundreds of puns with her current material, she realized they wouldn’t work on someone as cold-hearted as Syobai.

His footsteps caught her attention. His shadow retreated, forcing her to jerk her head up. She rubbed her temple as he shoved his hands into his pockets and shuffled over to the grain aisle. Loaves of bread packed in plastic lined the shelves. Boxes of quinoa and farro were quickly stolen by Syobai, stuffing small packets of them into his pockets.

There, she spotted two items which gave her a pun, which not even he could ignore.

“Syobai! Why shouldn’t you commit a crime on a farm?” Emma blurted, her sharp tone hardly making him flinch.

Sighing, Syobai nibbled on his cigarette and snapped, “God, are you still-?”

Emma lunged past him and snatched an armful of potatoes and corn from a plastic cart behind him, holding them above her head like crown jewels and exclaiming, “Because the potatoes have eyes and the corn has ears!”

Her heart pounded in her chest, the light shining down on her like a heavenly ray. For a moment in time as silence surrounded them, they seemed to be the only people in the world. They locked eyes, neither of them speaking. Emma felt her blood pulse between her ears, a dull throb pounding in the back of her head, waiting for his reaction, which seemed like it would never come.

Syobai chuckled and closed his eyes. He streaked his fingers through his gray hair, a scratchy laugh spilling out of his mouth. His laughter gave her credence to believe she had won him over, and she beamed, dropping the potatoes and corn back into the cart.

“I’ll give ya that one. Not bad,” he said, shrugging and smirking.

“I’ll have to think of more which suit your style,” she replied, giggling.

Walking past her, he shook his head and said, “Don’t push your luck.”

Savoring her victory, Emma touched her cheek and decided it was enough for now. Earning a sense of trust through humor had always been one of her strongest points. She let him leave, chuckling as the alarms went off when he brazenly ran past the sensors, Monocrow appearing out of thin air and ordering him to pay for his stolen goods.


	6. Without Them - Iroha & Emma & Nikei & Hajime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iroha makes a mistake while painting. As she remembers the cruel words of her family biting into her brain, the other members of Void offer a reasonable solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Friendship, Family Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Painting, Caring, Spoilers

The colors blended, and Iroha’s stomach tightened. She grit down on her molars. The red paint crossed over into the blue ocean and created a purple blot right in the center of her artwork. She raised her paintbrush, scanning her sketchpad for any way to blend it or make it as part of the shadows, but she couldn’t hide her blemish. It would have appeared like the sun had sunk into the water instead of appearing behind the wave. Not only that, it completely went against the lighting source. The sun she had been shading was smack dab in the center of her piece, and the more the ocean spread toward the edges of the page, it would have been colored in darker shades of blue. A dark blot right in the center completely distorted the lighting and shadows, and she bit back a scream.

Her lips trembled as she set her sketchpad on her bed. It was supposed to be a simple painting of the sunset, one she found more beautiful than anything in the world she once knew. The blood red sun melting behind the sea, the sublime clouds tinted in orange and yellow, the deep blue ocean stretching for miles, it was like a scene from a modern fairytale as the Monocruise braved the waters. 

She had almost captured it, too. Just a few more strokes, and she would have been finished, but no, she made a critical error. She couldn’t think of any way to cover up the bruise. Darkening her linework around the sun and waves would make the piece awkward and garish, contrasting with her thin brush strokes that had colored in the sea and sky. Starting over was a choice she didn’t want to make, either. She had been set on finishing the first painting of what she assumed would be a short trip if all went according to plan.

Sniffling, Iroha rubbed her eyes with the back of her sleeve. She didn’t want to start crying, but she couldn’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes. She could already hear her family’s criticism snarling in the back of her head, her beginner’s mistake earning their ire. Although she was safe from them, her memories refused to let them rest. They resurfaced, taunting her over such a critical error, and she whimpered as their roars bellowed between her ears, her hands hovering over the page to tear it out and-!

“Iroha?”

She gasped and gripped her hat. Blinking away her tears, she hadn’t realized she left her door wide open. Fidgeting with her hat, she mumbled, “H-hi, Emma.”

Leaning into the doorway, Emma tilted her head. Her gaze narrowed on the artist, and she touched her cheek, asking, “What’s wrong? I heard you in the hallway.”

“It’s-it’s nothing-” She grimaced, her tone precariously slipping into weariness. “-nothing important a-anyway. I’ll be, um, I’ll be okay.”

“If you’re about to cry, then it doesn’t sound like nothing,” Emma replied, and she clicked her tongue. She curled a long lock of blonde hair between her fingers and stepped inside, adding, “Tell me what happened.”

“I-it’s-!” Her voice hitched, choking on her own breath. She gestured at her painting and glared at the splotch, which seemed to be spreading right before her eyes. She knew that was impossible, that the paint had already set in, but she would have insisted it was contaminating the pure blue ocean and the fiery red sun if she could speak.

Emma leaned forward to inspect the painting and smiled. “Iroha, this landscape is lovely. A little purple dot like that doesn’t take away your painting’s beauty.”

“B-but it’s not supposed to be there!” she insisted, throwing her brush at the wall and letting it clatter to the floor. She clenched her fists and shook them, Emma wincing as she cried, “It’s a mistake! A big one! It-it doesn’t go with the-with the shadows or lighting or-!”

“What’s the ruckus in here?”

Nikei and Hajime appeared in her doorway, the former’s voice cutting through her budding tirade. Iroha blinked, lowering her raised fists and staring at them as if awaiting an order. Having her fellow members of Void around her, sans their new leader, immediately comforted her. They had all endured a specific hell, but they were together, even if they were in charge of a killing game, and their presence calmed her.

But her displeasure quickly returned when she glanced at her painting. She pointed at the violet daub, which she could have sworn was bigger. As Nikei and Hajime encroached around her bed, the latter carefully picking up her sketchpad with one hand, Iroha tucked her knees to her chest and glared out the window.

“It’s another masterpiece,” Hajime said, and Iroha snapped her head up.

“Is not! There’s an ugly purple blob right in the center!” She huffed and wrapped her arms around her knees. “It’s like a third grader drew it. Only a stupid kid would make that kind of mistake. Not coloring right, I couldn’t even color right.”

“Then why don’t you turn the dot into something?” Nikei offered, sighing. He tilted his head and raised his hat, getting a better look at the painting. “Hey, y’know, it looks to me like a dolphin.”

Her eyes widened. She pursed her lips as Nikei took the painting and sat next to her. She followed his finger trace the rounded blob, slowly seeing the linework needed to paint the dolphin.

“And by lining the dolphin with thin strokes,” Emma added, sitting on her bed and patting Iroha’s shoulder, “it’ll match the rest of your painting.”

“Put a dolphin in front of that sun, and it’ll be fine. Nothin’ to worry about now, huh, Iroha?” Hajime asked, his grin curling into his cheek. He ruffled her hair through her hat, causing the static to lift a few stray strands. He laughed as she puffed out her cheeks and gripped her hat. “Aw, c’mon, everyone else gets an awed look, and I get you pouting?”

“Well, i-it’s something I didn’t consider,” she admitted, stretching her legs and letting them dangle off her bed. She thanked Hajime when he handed her the paintbrush. She traced the splotch’s outline in the air and smiled, picturing all the little details she would add like a speckle of freckles on its belly and gray tones to better blend in the purple with the sea. “It’s decided! It’ll be a dolphin! Yay!”

“All this trouble for a dolphin,” Nikei grumbled, rolling his eyes as Hajime and Emma snickered. “What’s so funny?”

“Trying to be annoyed won’t hide the fact that you care,” Emma teased, Hajime and Iroha nodding in agreement.

“Sh-shut up,” he hissed, dipping his hat down and causing the others to laugh.

Iroha beamed brighter than the sun in her painting. Surrounded by the other Voids, she considered herself quite lucky to belong to such a supportive team. Without them, she didn’t want to think about where she would have ended up. It certainly would have been a place more devilish than a nightmare, but those circumstances she never had to ponder as long as they were with her, and she believed with all her heart they would all stay together. 

They wouldn’t be going anywhere. They’d always be a team, and so long as they were united, Iroha knew they would obtain their miracle.


	7. What It Wasn't For - Yuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri wakes up in a theater watching the game play out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Canon Divergence, Spoilers, Death, Afterlife, Despair, Angst, Introspection, Questioning, based on dr3's yukizome watching the events of future arc in the afterlife.

Yuri’s eyes fluttered, and then, he woke up. He raised his head, staring at the massive screen. He slowly turned his head, left, then right, then back to the screen which took up the entire wall. He heard a projector hum behind him and looked over his shoulder, taking notice of the many empty seats.

Only for now, it was all for him. This lonely movie theater was his home after death. He remembered the pain, all of it shooting through his body before he splattered onto the floor in a heap of broken bones and gore. He must have looked terrible before Sora, something which made him shake his head, but he still hadn’t the foggiest idea of who killed him.

He supposed he should’ve been worried. Waking up and watching the lives of his friends play out before him would have made anyone concerned. His attention, however, was on the girls as they hovered around his corpse, and a smile played on his lips as he pondered about which lovely girl took his offer.

Was it lovely Setsuka? The big sister type probably wouldn’t be his killer. She was comforting the Otonokoji twins, Kanade looking more curious than upset. Perhaps she was examining her handiwork, but he quickly frowned. She wasn’t the kind of girl who would abandon her sister, and through process of elimination, he came to three possible choices.

Out of the girls, Yoruko could have killed him with ease, and he understood why. Being in charge of the party, she could have easily incapcitated him. Plying him with drink after drink until he was nothing but the perfect victim made him sigh. If she had told him her plan, then he would have liked to help instead of letting her dirty her pristine hands, especially after she spent hours caring for everyone at the party.

Emma was his second choice. Coming up with such an elaborate trick could have belonged to the brilliant mind of Hollywood’s elite. She must have had experience with horror movies, but as much as Yuri appreciated her, he wasn’t sure if she had the physical capabilities required to carry out his killing especially when he would have gladly done it for her at the snap of her fingers.

Lastly, there was Kokoro. Sweet, analytical, Kokoro crossed his mind. She carried an air of mystery the other girls couldn’t match. Not even darling Sora could reach her level of mystifying. She was the wild card, the one who could have been plotting his death from the moment he offered himself to the women, but he knew that he could have helped her manage his death by doing anything and everything she wanted.

All he could do now was watch. They examined his corpse and the tricks used to kill him. He almost wished he was still alive to help them but only if the victim was a man. He probably would have cried himself to death if the victim was an innocent woman, and the thought made his heart squeeze, which then brought on a bout of curiosity.

He still had his sensations in what he assumed was the afterlife.

But he wished he hadn’t. He wished he could have felt nothing at all when they deemed Hajime as his killer.

Yuri screamed himself raw as Hajime admitted to his crime. Such a calm, placid answer passing his lips while Yuri scratched through his hair, the stark contrast made him want to die again. Giving up such a chance to be killed by a girl and ensuring their freedom had been what he believed to be his saving grace, but the Void preyed upon his offer.

Hajime took away a girl’s chance at freedom, and he would have killed the women if he had gotten away with it. Such a cruel realization made Yuri’s stomach churn and flip, the urge to vomit rising in his belly. He doubled over and gripped his stomach, sweat dampening his brow and color draining from his face.

The revelation killed him all over again, and this time, the pain never vanished even when Hajime was executed.


	8. Game Breaking Failure - Nikei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikei watches the monitors and tries forming his rebellion, but he wishes the executions would stop playing in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Missing Scene, Tumblr Prompt, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Angst, Hatred, Jealousy, Revenge, Spoilers.

The lights of the monitors flickered around him, showing various students on the Monocruise. Most of them slumbered snug in their beds. Others wandered around the halls in pairs or by themself lost in their thoughts. Another peaceful night on the Monocruise should have made anyone happy, but not Nikei as he focused on one particular student.

Nikei thought it was strange that Mikado was also in his room. He normally would have been holed up in the control room observing the others. It was almost as if he expected Nikei to visit and didn’t want to deal with him. 

Narrowing his glare on the magician, he watched Mikado flip through a mystery novel. The sight of him reclining in his bed made his stomach churn. Acting as if he hadn’t done anything wrong, appearing like a regular student, a quiet Mikado was the most dangerous of all the personalities he played with in front of the terrified Ultimates.

He directed his attention to other monitors which had been shut off. Those were the ones leading into the rooms of the dead students. Mikado insisted there was no need for them anymore, so those cameras were shut down. 

“It’s not as if they’re coming back, so why waste resources?” Mikado had asked, his cheerful tone a sharp contrast to his blank expression.

Grinding his fingernails into his palms, Nikei wrinkled his nose and glared at the floor. His brain was buzzing was rebellion, but the consequences clawed through his thoughts. Hajime and Emma’s fates were sealed the moment they struck their finishing blows, and he didn’t want to end up like them. He had too much going for him. His itch for knowledge and information helped him survive, his pride refusing to back down even when he faced an adversary on par with a deity.

Even though he had lost everything, Nikei wondered if he could still fight back. His leadership position and subordinates had been stolen from him, and his inferiority complex strangled his heart with an iron grip. Not even Iroha stood by him, cowering in Mikado’s shadow like a mouse begging for mercy from a cat.

Nikei couldn’t stand that arrogant magician, not for another second. Tearing the rug out from under Mikado’s feet, making him land on his face while he cackled, that would have been because of Nikei’s Fortune. He knew he was blessed by Fortune just as the others had been. They threw their lives away for the sake of Fortune, but as the game spiraled further and further from his grasp and Mikado became more unhinged, he feared losing his own life far more than resurrecting the one who saved them.

He gnashed down on his molars, the executions still fresh in his mind. He didn’t want to end up splattered into mangled guts like poor Emma or slowly being hanged, desperately clawing at his neck like the wicked Kanade. They haunted his dreams and darkened his eyes far worse than any hallucinations he endured while working on a story, sleepless for too many days to count to ensure his work was perfect.

But he couldn’t be deterred. No matter how many times he blinked and saw Hajime’s body shredded or Hibiki’s head burst clean off her shoulders, he couldn’t stop. Giving up would be exactly as Mikado wanted. Following in his shadow, obeying him and kissing his feet, his soul could no longer take being Mikado’s toy for him to play with until it was his turn to kill.

And who would he murder? He already had a basic scheme to manipulate all sides. It needed work, but the gears in his mind turned as he leered at his perfect victim. Such a kind man like Shinji would be the key. A loyal, innocent hero like him would be the most pivotal player in his plan to bring Mikado down from his pedestal and Yuki to death’s doorstep.

Standing up, he pushed in his seat only to grimace. His right hand throbbed and spasmed. He curled his fingers into a fist and winced. Rubbing his knuckles, Nikei wondered if he had been writing for too long and stepped out of the control room, a sneer stretching into his lips as the plan stitched together in his mind.

Later on, he would wish that he could stitch his fingers back on to his hand.


	9. Investigative Journalism Used For Good - Yuki/Nikei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuki tries eating lunch when he notices Nikei hovering over him and taking notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Tumblr Prompt, Humor, Fluff, Dialogue Heavy, Developing Relationship, Lunch, Questioning, sora's there too, i used the same set-up for this as i did in a promised neverland fic from a while ago but the premise is way different.

_Skritch skritch skritch._

The odd sound jarred Yuki out of his thoughts. He looked up from the table, his hand lifting off his cheek. Following the strange sound prompted him to turn to his left, catching quite an odd figure looming over him. Blinking, he cleared his throat and asked, “Um, Nikei, what are you doing?”

Nikei hummed and raised his head. He held his notepad in front of his face, his shadow crossing over Yuki. Any trace of embarrassment at being caught wasn’t present in his expression. Normal people would have laughed or blushed at being caught writing something down about another person, but he merely grinned with too many teeth visible.

“Some research. Can’t get to know the scoops on this ship without doing a little investigative snooping,” he said, pulling out the chair next to Yuki and sitting down. “You don’t mind, right? It’s just my journalistic integrity.”

“Um, n-no, no, not at all. It, heh, it kinda threw me off since…” He gestured at his food, which was a grilled cheese sandwich toasted to perfection, a side salad with too many sliced cucumbers, and a glass of cold cherry soda. “...I’m only having lunch.”

“Still!” Nikei jabbed his pen at Yuki’s nose, earning a yelp in return. “Any info is relevant! Even the tiniest details have meaning. It’s practically a motto for journalists.”

“I-I-I see.” He chuckled as Nikei went back to writing. Poking at his salad, he asked, “So, what are you writing about?”

Nikei rolled his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? You.”

An alarm went off in Yuki’s head. His casual tone sent his thoughts into overdrive. All he had been doing was eating lunch when Nikei started taking notes, making him wonder what it was exactly that he had written down.

“It’s nothing bad,” he interjected as if sensing Yuki’s concern. “Just what you’re having for lunch. Are grilled cheese sandwiches your favorite?”

“Uh, yeah!” Yuki chuckled, relief warbling in his laugh. “I can make a mean grilled cheese.”

His comment was as cheesy as his sandwich, and Nikei clenched his fist by his side. If he weren’t so cute, then he would have sighed with all the air trapped in his lungs. Brushing through his hair, he grinned and set his notepad down, his real intentions beating in his heart as Yuki continued eating.

“Mind if I ask you something else?” he wondered, and Yuki nodded, smiling and swallowing. “Are you single?”

He was so thankful he gulped down the rest of his soda before he could spit it back up. Beating his chest, Yuki’s face turned scarlet, hotter and brighter than a supernova. His eyes bulged in his skull as his fingers twitched rapidly, his words misplaced in his throat as Nikei stared at him with inquisitive eyes.

“I’m not letting your shenanigans get in the way of my scoop,” Nikei insisted, his grin curling into his cheek. A gleam shone in his eyes, which seemed to intensify as he leaned forward. “Yuki Maeda, are you single?”

“U-uh, we-well, at this time, um…” Yuki’s arms started moving in odd circular patterns, appearing like orbiting planets. “...I-I-yeah, I am.”

“The tea is steaming today, just the way I like it,” Nikei whispered, hurriedly writing down his answer. Straightening his back, he slipped his notepad into his jacket and clicked his pen. “So, ya wanna go out?”

As if Yuki’s face couldn’t have felt hotter than it already was, it did. If someone touched his cheek, their fingers would have burned. Yuki gawked, the question hanging in the air between them. At some point, Sora rounded behind Nikei and gave Yuki a supportive thumbs-up.

“I-I’ve-I’ve never been on a date before!” Yuki finally blurted, his scratchy tone assaulting Nikei’s ears.

Sharp laughter split past his lips. “Don’t worry about that! Neither have I!” Nikei snapped his fingers and winked, the same gleam back in his visible eye. “Anyway, the offer is on the table, Yuki. Whaddaya say?”

Although it was sudden, Yuki felt a smile creeping on to his face. Nikei was certainly an energetic person. He was someone who jumped at new opportunities. He had charming qualities and a handsome face, even if Yoruko spat that all of his attributes were annoying. 

Also, Sora was still standing behind Nikei, nodding and giving two thumbs-up. With her support, the choice was obvious.

“Y-yeah! Sounds like fun,” he said, bobbing his head in agreement.

Tearing out his notepad, Nikei beamed and jotted down his answer, proclaiming, “It’s settled! Our first date will be the cover story of tomorrow’s paper.”

“Th-the Monocruise has a paper?”

“It does now, babe!”


	10. Complacency - Iroha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iroha paints Teruya's corpse, alone and fearful of what will come. The other Voids aren't with her anymore, and she must face reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Prompt Fic, During Canon, Canon Compliant, Fear, Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mourning, Regret, Angst, Crying, Spoilers.

Iroha gritted her teeth when she realized her hand was trembling. Her paintbrush threatened to slip from her grasp, but she tightened her grip around it. She refused to let nervousness deter her especially when she had already committed such an atrocity, and she dragged the brush down, creating another perfect line to form the slope Teruya’s long nose.

Her painting had to be perfect. There was no room for error with her life on the line. Blending the right colors, ensuring the lighting was correct, leaving no detail out, her artistic drive surged forth, tainted with anxiety as she crouched in front of what should have been a corpse.

She pursed her lips and switched brushes. Taking out a tiny one with a tip as small as chick’s feathers from her pouch, she dabbed it in the bubblegum color on the far corner of her palette. She took in a deep, calming breath and from Teruya’s lip, she colored in his blood. Curving her hand, she made it appear like the blood was running down the subtle fat in his cheek and dribbled to his neck.

Iroha raked her fingers through her hair and squeezed her eyes shut. She had never been one for gore. With every execution came the threat of vomiting. Even though she was only painting a dead body, she still felt the urge to retch.

Stepping backwards, she inspected her work. She needed to add details to Teruya’s jacket and scarf. His goggles also needed proper shading. His positioning was perfect, but his hair gave her trouble with how strange it would have seemed if his hair was perfectly stationary. Groaning, Iroha pulled out an angled brush. It was perfect for coloring in hair, but she still couldn’t figure out the best way to paint the odd strand that seemed to stand upright. It had to bend to the side, but she couldn’t gauge how far over the strands would go. Even when she scrutinized the picture for reference, there were still stray hairs that seemed like they would be impossible to perfect for her fake.

Rolling her shoulders back, she stomped her foot and glared at the ceiling. She knew she couldn’t start complaining. Mikado would kill her if she did anything objectionable. She’d end up like Nikei, splattered under a pile of Monocrows, and she yelped, wishing she had more control over her thoughts, but they spiraled out of control, forcing her to confront reality.

She was alone. While she stood with the other students, she knew she was against them. She killed Teruya, and she had to eventually face them in a class trial. Mikado gave her the reins, and she wished she had thrown them back in his face, but her fear of death overpowered her feeble desire for rebellion. She already knew the price she would have paid for such a wish.

If she were alive, Iroha thought Emma would have comforted her. She would have wrapped her arm around her shoulders and promised she would be okay. Always with her comforting aura, always with a smile no matter how weary she felt, Emma would have given Iroha the encouragement she needed.

Hajime would have helped her paint. They were Voids, after all, and he would have done anything for his group. She knew he would have been helping her position the body and making sure she had all the time she needed to finish her painting. He’d be like her bodyguard if he still breathed.

But they were dead, and so was Nikei. He had already given up on her. When she came crying to him, he refused her. He left her in her most dire moment. For the most part, she couldn’t blame him. She had already messed up too many times to count, and Nikei’s patience had finally grown threadbare. 

Iroha wondered if Mikado carried out his execution because of her cowardice. As a way to punish her and keep her cemented behind his shadow, he changed the rules and killed Nikei. The little voice in the back of her head hissed at her that it was true, that she was to blame, and she choked out a sob, fat tears like raindrops spilling onto her palette.

What would they think of her now? It wasn’t like she could call them. All she had left of them were memories taunting her thoughts.

Drying her eyes, she gnawed on her lower lip. Setting her brush into the green paint, she continued coloring Teruya’s hair. She didn’t have a choice anymore, and they weren’t there to help her. Submitting to Mikado’s will was her only option of survival, and without the other members of Void to console her, her fragile heart decided it was fine.


	11. Ease Your Mind - Setsuka & Nikei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikei's door is ajar. Setsuka investigates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Missing Scene, Canon Compliant, Nightmares, Reassurance, Friendship, Worry, Comfort, Tumblr Prompt.

Setsuka couldn’t help but sense something was very, very wrong when she noticed his door ajar on her evening walk. Nikei was a very meticulous person. He wouldn’t make such an obvious mistake like forgetting to shut his door. The alarm bells in her head rang at full volume, and she knew she needed to investigate the reason why he would be so careless as to leave himself vulnerable at night.

His door didn’t creak when she pushed it open. Stepping inside, she quickly gazed around with both eyes, scanning the shadows of his room. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. His room was as orderly as she expected from a journalist. Papers were strewn on his desk, and notebooks were scattered on the carpet. She stepped over pens and made her way to his bed, closing her Devil’s Eye, her expression twisting with worry.

Nikei’s body contorted under his sheets. His eyes were screwed shut, and his jaw was clenched. He clung to his pillow, a sheen of sweat dampening his brow. Nikei grinded down on his teeth, Setsuka worrying that his enamel would crack, and a strangled moan slipped past his chapped lips.

“Nik?” she whispered, and she gently set her hand on his shoulder.

Gasping, Nikei flicked his head up and clutched the blankets. He jerked his attention to Setsuka, staring through her as if she was a ghost. Setsuka withdrew her hand, the movement making Nikei blink away his sleepiness.

“Setsuka?” He recoiled, danger settling in his chest and spearing through his heart. “Wh-what the hell are you doing in my room?”

“It’s okay. Your door was open,” she said, her calm tone cutting through his anxiety.

“Huh? Huh?” Nikei spluttered and raked his fingers through his hair, grease painting his palm. “Ugh, what? It was open?”

She grinned and tilted her head. At least he seemed better. Compared to his previous writhing, she decided his flustered self was an improvement.

“Fuck,” he whispered, glaring at a corner of the room. “I did, didn’t I? Yeah, I remember now. I didn’t shut it all the way.”

“Well, that explains that,” Setsuka said, sitting on his bed. She noticed him stiffen at her sudden closeness. “Big sis is here to listen, Nik. You were having a nightmare.”

“Tch! I’m not like Hibiki. I don’t need to be coddled.” Nikei dug his fingers into the blankets.

She lowered her voice. “I’m not saying you are, but you were squirming in your bed.”

“Rephrase that,” Nikei demanded, his cheeks turning pink. His reaction earned a chuckle from the Ultimate Billiards Player.

“You were tossing and turning. Whatever you were dreaming about, it really bothered you.” Setsuka tested the waters and placed her hand on his shoulder again. He didn’t flinch, but he kept a wary eye on her. Gently squeezing, she grinned and added, “If you wanna talk about it, big sis is here to listen.”

She waited for his answer, letting Nikei glance around his room. He seemed to be deep in contemplation, examining her for any lies or misconceptions, but she had none. She earnestly wanted to help him. Seeing anyone react so terribly to a nightmare, whatever it entailed, she knew it couldn’t possibly be good and needed to give him any peace of mind.

“It’s...none of your business,” Nikei finally said, the tension between them slipping through the door, “but I guess if you have to know, it’s something from my past.” He bit the inside of his mouth. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Setsuka acquiesced with a curt nod. She couldn’t force Nikei to discuss anything. That would only make the wall he built between them stronger. The fact that he allowed her hand to remain on his shoulder was enough for her to keep going.

“If you do, I’ll always listen,” she said. “No matter what’s troubling you, you can always come to me.”

She noticed he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, filled with sincerity which he usually hid under the shadow of his hat. She understood that he was reserved, preferring privacy above all else, but she sensed the trust between them when she stood up from his bed.

“I’ll be sure the shut the door fully on my way out,” she called over her shoulder, Nikei scoffing at her sneer.

“Hey, Setsuka,” he said as she grabbed the doorknob, “thanks for that.”

She shrugged and flashed a peace sign. “No worries. See you tomorrow, Nik.”

Shutting the door behind her as Nikei shifted back in his bed, Setsuka pressed her hand over her heart. Sighing, she fixed her billiards clip and left with a steady grin. She could rest easy knowing she had helped Nikei. As she continued on her nightly walk, she hoped she could learn more about him and whatever it was that kept him from having peaceful dreams.


	12. Tormenting The Culprit With Hints Of The Truth - Kanade & Emma, Hibiki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the investigation ensues, Kanade confronts Emma with a seemingly innocent question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Canon Compliant, Interrogation, kanade kabedons emma but it's bad, Suspicions, Tension, Confusion, Fear, Dialogue Heavy, Spoilers

“Hey.”

Kanade's voice cut through Emma's tears. Her mascara ran in inky streams down her cheeks. The normal color in her face had turned milky white. Her puffy eyes had widened, her pupils reminding Kanade of the pinpricks she left on the seats of classmates who tried becoming close with Hibiki in grade school.

Emma sniffed and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket. She quickly wiped her eyes, her long lashes flicking off any remaining tears. She managed a weary smile as Sora and Yuki passed her into Kokoro's bedroom, the chilly draft pushing on her long coat.

“Kanade, hello. Are you here to investigate?” the Ultimate Actress wondered, pushing her lips into a smile.

“Mm-hm. If I don't, we'll die,” Kanade chirped, wrapping her arms behind her back.

Emma blinked, recovering with a quiet chuckle. “I-I see. Well, I hope you have a better time investigating than I do. It's so horrible what happened with Kokoro. I can't stand seeing her in such a-”

She dismissed Emma with a curt wave of her hand. “Oh, I already searched the crime scene. I need something from you.”

The subtle quirk of Emma's mouth turning down made Kanade tilt her head. She maintained her smile as Emma set her hands on her hips. Sensing her irritation made her fingers lace together, appearing like an innocent child asking a parent something scandalous.

“Is it relevant to Kokoro's murder?” Emma asked, her level tone betraying the fire burning in her eyes.

“Maybe so, maybe no.” Leaning forward, Kanade glanced at her up and down. She set her hand on her head and dragged it forward, the side of her palm brushing against Emma's neck.

Emma recoiled and slapped her hand away. Pain faintly buzzed in Kanade's fingers. She cocked her head, listening to Emma sucking down a sharp breath, her calm persona shattering for an instant only to be replaced with repulsion.

“What is wrong with you?” Emma hissed, lowering her voice as Shinji shuffled out the room, streaking his fingers through his hair. She shot him a sympathetic smile when he looked at them before ambling down the hall.

“Just checking something,” she said as vaguely as possible.

“Checking what? How tall you are to me?” Emma clenched her fists. “I really don't appreciate your antics right now. Kokoro is dead.”

Her words were as sharp as blades. They cut into Kanade, forcing her to acknowledge that it was quite silly to suddenly measure their heights with a corpse in the next room. She tittered and narrowed her eyes, estimating a few inches between herself and Emma, her intentions masked behind her eerie smile.

“Emma, who do you think is the tallest girl here?” she asked, twisting a lock of her hair between her fingers.

Groaning, Emma leaned into the wall and looked down at her. “That doesn't matter right now. Like I said, Kokoro is dead, and you're making a height chart? How classy.”

The sarcasm wasn't lost on her. She felt the urge to tear her jugular out with her bare hands, but Kanade refrained. Her question still needed to be answered. Rolling her shoulders back, she chuckled when Emma wrinkled her nose.

“What? What is it now?” she demanded, louder than she intended.

“Hey, don't you get it? It's part of Kokoro's dying message.” Kanade flicked her pigtail over her shoulder. 

Emma pressed her fingers by her chest, asking, “What are you saying? 'Dying message?' Did-did Kokoro leave behind a clue?”

“I wouldn't be asking such a stupid question without having an important reason. Do you think I care about how tall you are otherwise? Use your head or else you're nothing but a dumb blonde.”

A strangled noise became trapped in Emma's throat, and Kanade knew. She reached into her pocket and gripped her handbook. She tapped it on and swiped to Emma's profile. Checking her height, she nodded, but then she quickly shook her head and stuffed her handbook back into her pocket.

“You are the tallest, but I wonder...” Kanade stepped forward and thrust her arms out, trapping Emma to the wall. Hearing her gasp made her cheeks redden. The horrified glow in her victim's eyes, she always appreciated that. She reached up and gripped her cheeks, digging her nails into her soft skin. “...maybe Kokoro was wrong. Her dearest friend wouldn't kill her, right?”

“O-of course-of course not,” Emma blurted, and regaining her confidence, she shoved Kanade. She clung to her coat and snarled, “Kokoro was my friend. I would never lay a hand on her.” She stormed away and cracked her knuckles, her pretty teeth clenched tightly together.

Kanade watched her vanish into Kokoro's room. She waited, listening to Emma chat with Setsuka. Her tone had reverted back to a wimpy mewl, something she expected from the actress.

It was almost too easy to figure out, but she supposed she had to thank Kokoro. Without such a vital hint, even she would have had trouble understanding the tricks used in the case. Certainly, she would have comprehended the truth even without interrogating Emma, but it was delightful sending fear rocketing down Emma's spine. Putting her on edge would give her an amusing trial. Compared to Hajime accepting his crime, Kanade understood Emma would be a much more energetic opponent.

“Kanade?”

She beamed as Hibiki tiptoed towards her. “Oh, sis, are you okay?”

Hibiki groaned behind closed lips. She slowly shook her head and whispered, “Why'd this have to happen? If we never had our concert, Kokoro wouldn't have gotten sick and...and...”

Rubbing Hibiki's shoulder as she sniffled, she said, “It's okay, Hibiki. I'm sure we'll be able to solve the case. Rely on me as much as you need. I already have a solid theory which can't be broken.”

“R-really?” Hibiki raised her head, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes, but let's go somewhere else to clear your thoughts.” Tugging on her sister's sleeve, she guided her away from the crime scene and smirked to herself. It truly was going all according to plan.


	13. Secured For Life - Emma & Hajime & Iroha & Nikei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma learns she's earned the role of Holly Queen, but she quickly realizes the expectations that have been thrust upon her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Pre-Canon, Prompt Fic, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Implied/Referenced Abuse

Emma wondered if her heart would burst through her chest. It thudded and thudded, ramming against her ribcage and splitting through her lungs. Veins twisting in her body desperately pumped blood, which her heart refused, her lungs working overtime to keep up with what little air she could force past her lips. Every gasp was sucked down and vomited back up with a hitched breath, her heart thundering so loudly that she couldn’t hear herself think or concentrate on anything in front of her.

The audition had gone splendidly. She had earned the part and beat out hundreds of girls. Holly Queen was a special role with a guaranteed spot in the sequels. She’d never have to worry about money again, the constant pressure to bring income to her home or else she’d had to face the contorting expression of her father and the hands used to pull out clumps of her long blonde hair.

She should have been happy. The email she received confirming her as Holly should have made her leap for joy. Other young actresses would have been screaming and posting on social media about their success, promising to live up to fan expectations.

Emma couldn’t. She had worked herself to the bone to make sure she appeared like Holly. Memorizing long passages filled with flowery language and evoking the intellectual and magical qualities of the character had taken weeks. Her brain still buzzed with spells, and her reflexes hadn’t recovered from thrusting her vine-like wand at the producers, all of whom refused to give any actress leniency due to the series’ popularity.

She could only stare at her laptop. The white background blinded her. Little black particles like dust dotted her vision. She tried breathing just like Hajime instructed her, counting to ten and back again.

But her heart spasmed and twisted, and she felt like vomiting. Groaning, Emma raked her fingers through her hair and hunched forward. Her rolling chair squeaked as she scooted backwards, holding her stomach and feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

She had secured her role, but she knew what was ahead of her. With hundreds of hours of acting and living up to the strict requirements for the role, she knew her father’s control over her wouldn’t cease now that she had found superstardom.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her up. She gasped, her long lashes flicking off tears. She felt Hajime’s calloused palms applying faint pressure, the feeling stronger than she anticipated as she realized how deeply numbness penetrated her skin.

“Emma, are you okay?” he whispered, his eyes wide with concern.

“Oh, Hajime,” she murmured, closing her eyes. She drew her finger to the screen, directing him to read.

He squinted at the email only to blurt, “Y-you got the part!”

“I did.” She forced herself to smile, footsteps echoing behind her.

“Did I hear that right? You got the part, Emma?” Iroha scampered inside, Nikei trailing behind her and sighing.

“Of course she did. Emma’s a master at her craft.” He shook his head. “You’d think Iroha would get that by now.”

Iroha uttered what Emma thought was something between a yelp, a hiccup, and a gasp. “I-I’m right here! Don’t act like I’m not!”

“Oi, knock it off,” Hajime ordered, his authoritative tone overtaking their budding argument. Ignoring Nikei’s scoff, he flicked his head at Emma.

“Do you all think my father will be satisfied with this?” she asked, a bitter laugh escaping her. She wrapped her fake fur coat tighter around her as if it could shield her from the cruelties of the world. Her fingers trembled, the soft fabric feeling foreign between her bony digits.

“It’s a major series. I think he would be,” Nikei remarked, shrugging and raising his palms to the ceiling. “He’d give you some peace, I think, especially since you got the lead role. That’s something to be proud of no matter what.”

“A-and we’re all proud of you, Emma!” Iroha bobbed her head up and down as she spoke. “It’s super duper incredible that you got the part of Holly Queen! She’s my favorite in the series!”

“So, I guess I have to live up to your expectations, too,” Emma bitterly replied, Iroha grimacing in return. She knew her comment stung, but she couldn’t help herself.

Hajime kneaded her shoulder, saying, “Iroha didn’t mean that, y’know. It’s gonna be an uphill battle, but we got your back, Emma.” He pressed his thumb near the base of her neck. “You don’t have to act in front of us.”

Emma shuddered, and her heart throbbed. She felt Iroha’s hands gently threading through her hair, taking away the pain her father would inflict. Nikei patted her other shoulder, keeping his gaze fixated on the floor only to look down at her, his eyes filled with rare sympathy. As Hajime continued smiling at her, Emma’s lips trembled, and she let go, her tears falling over her rouged cheeks. She threw her arms around Hajime’s waist and wept into his chest, her wails overpowering her heart, and they protected her from the world, listening to her fears which only they were allowed to hear.


	14. Role Reversal - Hibiki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Void takes the first kill, and Hibiki feels nothing but joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Alternate Canon, Role Swap, Character Death, Trauma, Revenge, Introspection

Hibiki plunges the knife between Emma’s eyes, and the cracking of bone fills her ears. Emma flails for a brief second before her entire body slackens. She twitches once, twice, and then she is frozen, her terrified face her final mask, Hibiki shuddering all the while.

The first Void has taken a life so effortlessly. Emma was nosy, and that’s why she’s bleeding out on the grass shadowed by massive trees. She stuck her head into business that wasn’t hers. She always seemed to be intruding on conversations or interjecting to learn more information when she wasn’t wanted, and when she detested someone’s mannerisms, she wasn’t afraid to call them a brat.

She insulted Hibiki. That’s the only reason why she targeted Emma. Such a selfish reason had taken someone’s life, and Hibiki couldn’t have been happier. (Though, the mastermind had said Emma had the vibe of the first victim, and Hibiki agreed when they were lounging together in the monitor room.)

Sighing, she pushes off Emma’s shoulders and inspects herself. There isn’t a drop of blood on her thanks to the garbage bag she had taken from Iroha’s room when they did splatter painting together last night. She tears it off and wraps the knife in it, knowing exactly where to place it as the morning announcement rings out from the Monocruise. Glancing over her shoulder, she knows Shinji and Hajime will leave the the massive ship as soon as the doors open, giving her little time to prepare her cover-up.

Stepping away from Emma, she wraps the knife in the trash bag and hurries back to the Monocruise. The doors click open, and she rushes in, her footsteps pounding in her ears as she makes a mad dash for Kanade’s room. As expected, Kanade is already prepared and is opening her door when Hibiki arrives, skidding to a stop and throwing the bag in front of her face.

Kanade shrieks, flailing her arms but catches the bag. “Wh-wha-? Hibiki, what’s-?”

“Huh? Aren’t you acting too mighty? Call me older sister!” Hibiki snaps, and Kanade yelps, Shinji and Hajime walking down the hallway and noticing them.

“Just another mornin’ with those two,” Hajime mumbles, shaking his head.

“H-hey, Hibiki, maybe you shouldn’t treat your sister that way so early in the day,” Shinji says, but Hibiki ignores him, her scowl deepening.

“Kanade, hurry up and throw that away. It’s unsightly,” she orders, Kanade quickly complying and dumping the bag into her own trash can.

“B-but it wasn’t even mine to begin with,” she says, Hajime and Shinji already too far away to hear her remark.

Hibiki glances back at Kanade. She can sense her sister wanting to say something, but she can’t let her. She grabs her hand and drags her down the hallway, her brow dampened with sweat. 

“You kept me waiting again. Can’t you do anything right?” she snarls, digging her fingernails into Kanade’s wrist.

She flinches and apologizes, but Hibiki knows it will never be enough. The amount of blood she spilled to keep Hibiki under her control will never be mopped clean. Hibiki remembers the times she spent in darkness, a puppet for Kanade’s amusement until she regained her will and lost her memories.

It was thanks to Fortune that she remembered all those painful times. She considers it a miracle that she had met him during a private concert for him. He had won a contest with his maid, and she gave them a private show without Kanade. In return for such a beautiful performance, Utsuro’s Fortune blessed her, and most would consider it a curse to remember all the times Kanade had killed for her, but Hibiki was thankful. She finally had the truth she so desperately wanted. She clutched it between both hands, squeezing and strangling it, hating Kanade so feverishly that she wished she could kill her at the drop of a hat.

But that wouldn’t bring her parents back.

No, she knew what she needed to do, and Emma paid the price for it. She doesn’t feel bad as they make their way to breakfast. She doesn’t feel an inkling of guilt when Hajime and Shinji rush to tell everyone about the body they have discovered. She cries with everyone when they gather around Emma’s corpse, Monocrow’s body discovery announcement playing above their heads, and while he explains the process of a class trial, she grins behind her hands.

Kanade notices. Of course she does. The horror burning in her eyes is all Hibiki needs. She’ll never control Hibiki again. She’ll never have any right to her ever again, and by the end of the day, Hibiki will be cozy in a control room watching her sister suffer.

_“Eeeeh? What’s wrong, Kanade? Why are you so upset? Because you can’t control me anymore? Is that it? Hey, Monocrow! Show them what Kanade did to our parents! Come on! Show them what a killer she is!”_

_“That’s right! That’s the face she made after killing our parents! She did it just so she could use me and hurt me. Not anymore! You all can deal with her! I’m done!”_

_“Keep making that hateful face, sis! Go on, keep making it! It’s perfect! You can shrivel up and die for all I care now! I’m finally away from you!”_

_“Huuuh? Who cares about Emma? She played her part! She played her last role as the first victim! That’s the best honor anyone can have!”_

_“Anyway, see you guys later. I’ll be watching you all from a very special place. I hope you all aren’t killed in really gruesome ways! Kihihihi!”_

_“H-hey, knock it off. Stop saying screwy things. Open the elevator up, and lemme go already!”_

_“No! No, no, no, no! I’m not dying here! You never told us we’d die! The-the-the other Voids won’t let you get away with this! We all promised we’d get the miracle together! H-hey, guys, help me already!”_

_“Stoooop! Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it! I DON’T WANNA DIIIIIIIE! Kanade, Kanade, I’m sorry, please, please, please, help meeeeeeee! Noooooooooooo!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is super beta, but i was thinking about some voidswaps, and hibiki getting revenge on kanade by doing everything she could to get away from her really spoke to me.


	15. Living A Fictional Life - Nikei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikei learns a very, very bizarre truth about the killing game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Crack Treated Seriously, Tumblr Prompt, Metafiction, Mental Breakdown, Humor, nikei plays melee

Nikei dropped his pen and stared at his right hand. He clenched it, listening to the faint popping of his knuckles. Uncurling his fingers, he stared at the veins running across his palm and the several creases lining his hand.

Closing his eyes, he sighed and whispered, “So, none of this is real.”

It had been an astonishing discovery. It would have been the scoop of the century. His name would have been heralded as the one who brought the truth to all corners of reality.

But it didn’t matter.

Because he was in a Fanganronpa, a knockoff of an original fictional work.

He discovered it by pure accident. He found a glitch in Mikado’s little game world and slipped through. It sounded cartoonish, and he would have needed Mikado’s “magic” to help him get out, but when he swam through the digital information, he learned the truth.

None of them were real, so did his life matter? His trials and tribulations meant nothing. His efforts and hard work culminated into amusement for a player. Even his personal events were scripted, left to learn by the player only if they cared about him.

Rubbing his shoulder, he made his way to the others. The scent of baked bread and other breakfast treats wafted around him as he entered the cafeteria. Sora and Yuki were silent, the events of what Nikei learned was the third chapter still weighing heavily on their shoulders. Yoruko and Shinji seemed to be trying to have a normal conversation, but their gazes kept falling on Sora and Yuki respectively. Teruya was glaring at Mikado, who propped his legs up on the table and ate his rice with gusto. Iroha had her face buried in her sketchbook, drawing little doodles to keep herself from looking at anyone.

“Everyone, I’ve come to make an announcement,” Nikei said, and with his right hand, he pulled out his gun.

“Holy-!” Yoruko flung to her feet, her scream dying in her throat.

“M-Mr. Yomiuri! What is the meaning of this?” Mikado cried, hurrying out of his seat.

“Like I said, I’ve come to make an announcement.” He cocked the gun. “None of us are real.”

A hush fell over them. Shinji wiped sweat off his brow.

“What did you say?” Sora asked, crossing her arms.

Nikei dragged his attention to her, snapping, “We’re not real, and everything I’ve ever done in my life means nothing.”

“Th-that’s crazy talk! Did you bonk your head or-eep!” Iroha immediately shielded herself behind her sketchbook when Nikei aimed the gun at her.

“I’m not crazy, and I didn’t bonk my head!” he bellowed, and he launched himself on the table. He kicked the food all over the place, glass crunching beneath his slip-on shoes. Snatching Shinji’s salmon, he gobbled it down whole, surprising everyone more than his original outburst. Beating his chest when he started choking, he unleashed a hellish scream and aimed his gun at Mikado, roaring, “You! You stole my leadership position and reignited my inferiority complex! You took my Voids!”

“Did he just admit he’s a Void?” Yuki whispered to Iroha, who began to sweat faster.

“And now, now, I’m gonna-I’m gonna-!” Nikei immediately sat down, staring blankly at Mikado. “I’m gonna whatever I want.”

“I-you just-what did you-?” Mikado stumbled for words as Nikei shot several bullets into the air, piercing through the roof. “Would you stop that, Mr. Yomiuri? Your bizarre nonsense is-”

“Fuck you,” he flatly said, taking Sora’s coffee and downing it.

All Mikado could do was gawk.

“So, yeah, I’m a Void, but we’re all fictional, so who gives a shit?” He proceeded to roll around in the food, staining his trenchcoat. “And since we’re fictional, I’m gonna go and do something else with my fake life.” Reaching the end of the table, he flopped onto his face and staggered to his feet. Flashing the others a bright grin, he said, “I’m gonna be an esports competitor.”

“My God, he’s so far gone,” Syobai said, materializing out of thin air.

And so, Nikei played Super Smash Brothers Melee, and the LAN party was wild when everyone joined him. Even Monocrow played, insisting on No Items, Fox Only, Final Destination, and Nikei prevented the events of the rest of the game from ever happening.

In Void Theater, Emma made her puns, and Hajime wept, wishing that he, too, could have played Melee one last time.


	16. Welcome Back! - Iroha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pod room makes her sick to her stomach, but Iroha braves it, hoping her friends will wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Post-Canon, Found Family, Family Fluff, Crying, Hugs, Relief, Comfort, Prompt Fic

The pods seemed too clinical, sterilized to the point where Iroha’s stomach twisted into knots. The dim lighting surrounding the pods, the chromatic color scheme of the room, it was all too clean. She couldn’t find any traces of dust. Even the air was pristine, purified, covering the stench of rot and blood which had once covered their bodies.

Iroha tucked her knees to her chest as she waited by Emma’s pod. It was Saturday, so she spent time by Emma’s body. Yesterday had been Hajime’s day, and tomorrow would belong to Nikei. She wanted to spend equal time with them, and spending a day with one unconscious Void seemed to be the right solution.

She clipped her hair behind her hair, noticing it felt a bit matted. She had showered today, but her hair still fell past her shoulders, the locks somehow lanky. Split ends hung down from her forehead, and she didn’t bother to fix them, focusing her energy on her drawing, carefully dragging her pencil across the blank page.

Utsuro had said it would take time. Even his Fortune couldn’t fully fix traumatizing injuries. Their minds and bodies needed to recover, and not even he could predict how long they would stay trapped in the pods. 

After all, the victims of Mikado’s killing game truly believed they had died. Even if the Voids thought they were safe, they had also perished in cruel, ironic ways befitting their talents. Iroha had nearly been a victim, but special circumstances prevented her death, which she was forever grateful for when she looked back at Emma’s chest, watching it rise and fall with her every breath.

“So, Emma! I’m drawing that full body shot you always wanted,” she said, the air dead around her. “You have such a pretty face. I wanna make sure I capture every little detail, so you’ll be happy when you wake up.”

She grinned to herself, imagining Emma returning the smile. Emma had always complimented her skills no matter how terrible she thought they were. Not a bit of criticism slipped past her lips, possibly because she had only faced criticism in the movie industry.

She sketched the basic outline of Emma’s face in total silence. Only her own breathing reached her ears, complemented by the blood pounding in her head. The outside world didn’t matter. All she had were the bodies surrounding her in the pods and her goal of making Emma happy the moment she woke up.

_Tap._

_Tap tap._

_Tap tap tap._

Iroha flinched and dropped her sketchbook. Her pencil slipped from her fingers, followed by odd hissing sounds. Her shoulders hitched to her earlobes, her eyes widening as she jerked her head around.

The capsules rose. Limbs awkwardly moved in them. Faint groans slipped past chapped lips, and Iroha could only stare.

Three pods were _opening._

Emma blinked the sleep out of her eyes. Her long hair had grown towards her knees during her time in the simulation. She felt the warm fur of her coat graze her cheeks, which had grown somewhat thinner. Her make-up felt caked to her face, immovable smudges of a life she had left behind.

Next to her was Hajime. While he was still imposing, he seemed somehow smaller. Without time to exercise, there was a softness to his body that made him flinch. His glasses were still perched on his face, though the templates had become lopsided. He groped at his belt, which had started to hang off his hips, his brow furrowing as he tried coming to terms with what had happened.

And by Hajime was Nikei. He couldn’t take his eyes off his treasured right hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed his knuckles. Tears clung to his lashes. Compared to Hajime, his several layers of clothing covered the weight he had lost during his time in the simulation.

A vague idea of what had happened gripped Iroha. They had entered the simulation first based on Mikado and Kokoro’s orders. Naturally, they would also be the first ones to wake up, even though that idea seemed silly considering poor Yuri was still unconscious, the first victim of an unjust crime.

“Everyone,” Iroha crooned, her weak voice catching their attention. Her lips trembled, her knees threatening to buckle when they stared at her.

“Iroha,” Emma whispered, hoarse from so long without any use.

“We’re...back,” Hajime muttered, exploring the pinchable skin on his waist.

“Fuck,” Nikei said, no trace of anger in his voice, just simple, pure relief.

Like a fuse setting off, Iroha lunged. She launched herself at Emma, who fell into Hajime, who was caught by Nikei, but they still ended up in a heap on the floor. Wires and IVs were ripped from their bodies in the fall. Iroha wailed, overpowering the subsequent beeping of the monitors behind her.

“You’re all back! You’re back, you’re back, you’re back!” she blubbered, burying her face in Emma’s chest.

Suppressing a groan and ignoring the pain in her skull, Emma patted Iroha’s head and said, “Yes, we are back, aren’t we?”

“We sure are if you like these gross thin bodies we got. Totally unhealthy,” Hajime grumbled, managing a weary grin at the sobbing Iroha.

“You can work out when all of you get the hell off me,” Nikei ordered, but Iroha refused, her little arms trying to hug all of them together. With a sigh, he reached through the others and lightly rubbed Iroha’s shoulder. “There, there, get off now. My lungs are killing me.”

“No! I waited a really long time for you all to wake up, and there were moments when I thought you weren’t gonna make it so let me have this!” Iroha shouted, her tears coming down far faster and sloppier than before.

The other Voids exchanged glances, surprised by her boldness only for Nikei to roll his eyes. He scooped her into his arms after wriggling his way out from underneath Hajime. Rubbing her head, he said, “All right, all right, one group hug, and that’s it.”

“Oh, our leader is finally getting his mojo back,” Emma teased, Hajime snickering with her.

“Fuck you guys,” he spat, but he embraced them anyway.

Surrounded by the warmth of her friends as the other survivors appeared in the doorway, Iroha laughed her tears away and hugged them as tightly as she could, afraid they wouldn’t be there when she let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm taking a short break from this series to focus on some other works! i have a zine piece to finish, another fic to update, and a halloween gift exchange, so i'll be back probably in november!


	17. Dead Man Walking - Yoruko & Yuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoruko confronts Yuri about his offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Missing Scene, Suspicions, Arguing, Fear, Confusion

Yoruko brushed through her hair and wished she hadn’t caught eyes with Yuri. She had been wandering in the hallway, her brain buzzing with what he had vowed when he turned the corner. He looked at her with a smile stretching into his cheeks, his cherubic expression masking his intentions. Hibiki’s tear-streaked face was already etched in her mind, empowered by the madness surrounding Yuri when he came on to her with such an insane promise.

“Ah, lovely Yoruko,” he began, the stars in his eyes bright and merry, “has fate brought us together?”

“It definitely hasn’t,” she spat, crossing her arms. She glanced over her shoulder, judging the distance between her and the staircase as a full ten steps.

He continued grinning, acting as if he wasn’t deterred by her rebuttal. “My apologies if I scared you earlier. I didn’t mean to distress the ladies.” He came closer, and Yoruko pressed all of her weight into her heels. “I only meant to intimidate the grotesque bastards known as men. I would never intentionally bring any harm to a woman.”

“You already have,” Yoruko growled, tightening her grip on her elbows. She didn’t know what tricks he had up his sleeves. Sweat beaded her brow, and anxiety pooled in her stomach, Yuri’s smile reminding her of an omen.

He sighed and rubbed his backpack straps. “Again, my apologies. I know I cannot save every woman.” He chuckled and tilted his head. “Trust me when I say I would if I could. I’d gladly die for every girl here, but alas, I only have one life to give. If I had nine lives like a cat, then all of you girls would be golden, no?”

Yoruko grit down on her molars. She knew his plan was meant to goad Hibiki into killing him, and she hoped Kanade would keep her sister under control. Anyone as volatile as Hibiki could have easily changed her mind and killed him, leaving her to wonder if Yuri would plant deceptive clues to point the finger to anyone else. She couldn’t comprehend what kind of killing would happen because of Yuri’s offer, and she chewed on the inside of her mouth so hard that she could have drawn blood.

Yuri hummed, his lips twisting downwards. He mimicked Yoruko’s pose, asking, “Were you considering my offer, dear Yoruko?”

She gasped, recoiling and paling. Her hand shot to her chest as she blurted, “N-no! Not a chance! Never! Not in a million years!”

“Ah, such harsh rejection,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head. His grin returned when he shrugged. “I understand. It’s rude to ask a woman to dirty her hands.”

“That’s not it at all! Do you get what you’ve done?” Yoruko shot back, hunching forward and clenching her fists. “Everyone’s on edge because of you and your crazy deal! You even taunted Mikado, and who knows what’s going on in that guy’s head? You might’ve given him new ideas!”

He scoffed, appearing more offended at the insinuation he had helped a man than harmed the group. “That was not my goal. Even if it’s you implying that, sweet Yoruko, then I will not stand for it. My dream is to help a woman.” He leered at her, his lip curling into his cheek, a gleam in his eyes so bright that Yoruko had to look away. “If a woman needs my life to escape, then I’ll gladly give it to her and live forever in her heart. This life has already lived for nearly twenty years. It’s a full life, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Wh-what? That’s barely a fifth of your life,” she said, willing herself to glare back at him.

“Maybe to someone with a bright future, but not for someone like me.”

His eyes had darkened, and Yoruko grimaced. She didn’t understand what he meant by that. She knew he was affluent and a talented astronaut worthy enough to be named an Ultimate. He shouldn’t have been making such ghastly comments with his rich history. It seemed like he was trying to extract pity from her, expecting her to question her him about what he meant, and Yoruko narrowed her glare, a revelation blooming in her mind.

“You’re selfish,” she spat, Yuri flinching at the claim.

He swallowed thickly. “Ex-excuse me?” 

“What you did to Hibiki, it was like you were taking advantage of her.” Yoruko glanced over her shoulder to the staircase, checking to see if anyone was nearby before glowering back at him. “You knew Hibiki was weak, and you tried manipulating her. We all know how vulnerable she is right now. Like the rest of us, she’s scared and confused, and if Kanade weren’t around, she’d probably take you up on it.” She gripped the fabric of her dress with white-knuckled intensity. “Don’t you feel any guilt about putting her in such a position? How dare you claim that you’ll give your life for her without thinking about the repercussions?”

Yuri seemed frozen, trapped in a block of ice. He stared at her with wide eyes filled with an emotion Yoruko couldn’t place. He opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. Yoruko watched him breathe in deeply, his face settling into neutrality, and the smile on his face seemed more forced than the natural one which would appear before a woman.

“Well, I respect your opinion. Trust me when I say I do regret what will happen to the women who will suffer because of me.” He sighed. “Even if you don’t understand me, my offer is open to you as well.” Turning away, Yuri grinned over his shoulder. “Also, if you don’t mind a lowly man like me saying this, you should smile more. It’ll prevent wrinkles by your lips.”

She covered her mouth, an insult rising in her throat. Glaring at the backside of his head, Yoruko fumed and reddened. She let him leave, her heart thundering in her chest as he vanished behind the corner. Rubbing her throat, she pursed her lips and pivoted, her heels clicking with each step she took, faster and faster as she hurried away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, yesterday: i'm returning in november after i finish my other obligations!  
me, today: i've only written yuri once. what if yoruko confronts him about his offer? they share the same initials, too. that'd be a good warm-up fic.
> 
> so, yeah, now i will be putting this series on hiatus...unless i need to write a warm-up fic, and that's what this fic was about! it got a little longer than i expected, but i'm still working on my other projects and needed a chance to exercise my skills before i went into my zine piece. so, i might be updating this more sporadically with shorter ficlets, so requests are on hold still while i work through my other fics!


	18. Seeking Common Ground - Syobai & Mikado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fourth death is simply a backdrop to their discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Missing Scene, Spoilers, Snark, Past Child Abuse, Arguing, Dialogue Heavy, this was a cool down fic since i wrote and edited a 2k psychonauts fic so it's mostly syobai and mikado jeering at each other.

“Oi, you were orphaned, too, right?”

Syobai's voice cut through Mikado's thoughts. The Ultimate Magician jerked his head over his shoulder. His expression was perfectly neutral, but he knew Syobai could see right through him. There was always something off with the Ultimate Broker, something sinister that he couldn't place, and he knew the true definition of sinister lied within himself.

The ocean breeze brushed through his blond hair. He straightened his back, his mask grinning for him. Raising his finger to his lips, he asked, “And if I was, how would this benefit you?”

Syobai scoffed and stuffed his hands into his pockets, saying, “Not a damn bit. Just trying to get a feel for you.”

Mikado hummed, a playful tune pressing against closed lips. He surveyed his surroundings, the ocean pitch black despite the moonlight. No stars shone in the sky. Only inky darkness enveloped them, the chaos ensuing on the fourth island a backdrop to their conversation.

“Then, I'm not sure why you're inquiring. As if my past matters in this killing game,” Mikado said, chuckling. He tipped his hat, noticing the darker bags under Syobai's eyes. “As for you, I know all about you.”

Syobai hardly stiffened. His shoulders squared slightly, but other than that, he didn't seem deterred. A small smirk pressed against his cheek, and he pulled his hands out of his pockets as if they were lead. Shrugging, he snickered, overpowering the pull of the waves caressing the shore.

Mikado clipped a lock of hair behind his ear. He expected Syobai to show a little annoyance. Just like someone as despairing as Kanade, Syobai was a wild card. Syobai didn't seem to hold any love for the participants. Always the loner, he interacted with others only if it benefited him. Holding out only for himself, keeping his nose out of everyone's business, Syobai sought to live without hope or despair.

Syobai cocked his head and shifted his weight on to his left leg. He glanced over his shoulder, sensing pandemonium. While he couldn't be sure what was happening, his instincts told him it was nothing good. Rust wafted into his nostrils and counteracted the sea salt. The seagulls cried overhead, an omen of times to come, and as Mikado continued grinning, he suspected another murder was happening as they conversed under the waxing moon.

“Do you think this is gonna go according to your fucked up plan?” Syobai asked, his posture straightening.

“Oh, my Voids will do nothing but follow orders. They've been cemented to my will,” Mikado replied, “and I don't expect any confusion in the next trial. Not even Nikei will disobey now.”

“Yeah? Unless they fuck it up or decide you're a shithead and wanna ditch you,” Syobai jeered, smirking.

Mikado cupped the side of his face. Frustration seeped into his mask. He didn't care for Syobai's arrogance, and he certainly didn't want to hear it. He refocused his attention back on the original question, saying, “You asked if I'm orphaned. What gave it away?”

“Everything.” He gestured at Mikado's outfit. “This whole thing sounds like a fucking cry for help. What, you didn't get Mommy and Daddy's love so you turned to murdering people?” His eyes narrowed. “Pathetic. You wouldn't last one damn day in the streets.”

Mikado clenched his fists by his head, channeling his inner Iroha as he cried, “How rude! You don't know my full story, so you can't be judgmental!” Fiddling with the long collar of his cape, he glanced at the shore. “Besides, you should know as well as I do about the horrors of being orphaned, Mr. Hashimoto. We've lived different lives, yet faced similar circumstances. The pain of being abandoned is truly despairing, isn't it?”

Syobai didn't give his remark the dignity of a response. He stuffed his hands back into his pockets. Looking over his shoulder, he swung himself around and said, “Whatever's gonna happen, you better be prepared to pay up, Mikado.”

He followed Syobai's shadow until it melted into the darkness of the night. Clearing his thoughts with a sigh, Mikado decided not to give in to his threat. They were both pawns in the greater scheme of things, but compared to the mastermind, a player couldn't stand up to him no matter how hard he tried to become the protagonist.

But he couldn't disregard Syobai. Those trying to exist outside of their roles had proven to be thorns in his side. Kanade, Teruya, and Nikei already pricked him, and now, Syobai was digging into him so harshly that he drew blood.

“Well, in your honor, I suppose a new rule is in order,” he whispered to himself, and snapping his fingers, he vanished in a fit of smoke.


	19. Wasn't I Good To You? - Setsuka, Hibiki, and Kanade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two knives plunge into her, and Setsuka wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Spoilers, During Canon, Missing Scene, Canonical Character Death, Blood and Gore, Crying, Regret, Threats of Violence, Emotional Manipulation, there's a short scene of kanade abusing hibiki.

“One…”

“Two…”

Setsuka’s eyes snapped open as soon as the blades punctured through her torso, but she didn’t feel any pain. Not even the slightest pinprick of agony made her twitch. She simply couldn’t discern the knives digging through her skin, skewering through her intestines and gouging through her organs.The hilts pressed against her abdomen, confirming the knives dug all the way through, slicing through her guts and spilling boiling hot stomach acid on to her organs.

Shock set in right away much to her horror. Like a switch being flipped, her body shut down and prevented her mind from accepting her suffering. Setsuka’s hands quivered as she tried reaching for the culprits, her throat clogging with bile, and blood slithered past it to taint her neck as she wheezed for breath.

She did, however, feel her blood squirt out as soon as the culprits withdrew their weapons. Their knives now slick with her essence, they seemed to marvel at their handiwork. Rust and chlorine wafted in Setsuka’s head, dizziness settling in her mind. The pool water lapped the tiles, which Setsuka realized was tainted with rich vermillion, but she knew she couldn’t have lost that much blood.

Could she have? She wasn’t sure. Her vision started to fog and blurred the culprits. Their hair matched her blood staining the chair and tiles. Even their eyes seemed infected with her ichor, but when she squinted, the other twin’s tears seemed genuine as they rolled down her round cheeks.

Setsuka’s hands trailed along her wounds. Her fingers slipped through the gouges and rubbed against slick, wet skin. Panting, her head lolled back, and the moment she touched her injuries, electrifying pain sent shockwaves throughout her body, her mind swiftly accepting the concept of being stabbed by two girls she had come to trust.

“Suka, Suka, I’m so sorry,” Hibiki crooned, her voice quivering. She hiccupped and sobbed, the sounds becoming farther away as Setsuka tried maintaining consciousness.

Kanade clicked her tongue. “Oh, stupid sis, stop blubbering. You can’t feel sorry for someone you knew you’d be murdering.”

Words bubbled in her mouth and came out as a crimson deluge. Setsuka’s eyes widened, exposing the grainy veins of her scleras. Her hands shook as she clutched her torso, her legs trying to maneuver her body to stand, but all she could do was kick, her heels smacking against the tiles.

Kanade grinned at her victim and tilted her head. Bending forward, she stroked the underside of Setsuka’s chin and sneered, “Aw, are you trying to escape? Don’t bother. It’s not as if you can move after being stabbed so severely.” She curled her finger around a sweaty lock of Setsuka’s hair. Snorting as Hibiki cried behind her, she yanked Setsuka towards her, lowered her voice, and growled, “This is what you’ve earned. Do you understand? You have earned this.”

Nothing about Kanade’s threats made sense. They refused to sink into Setsuka’s brain as darkness claimed the corners of her vision. She could hardly make out Hibiki’s face anymore, that once adorable and haughty expression she wore now coated in snot and tears.

“Sis is mine to control. I don’t need outsiders like you worming their way in and making it harder for me,” Kanade snarled, her smile showing too many teeth. “So, Setsuka Chiebukuro, thank you for dying for us, and don’t worry, the others will join you after the class trial.” Giggling, she pivoted to Hibiki and clapped her own cheeks, Hibiki’s bawling reaching a new pitch. “Aw, gee, sis, that’s a great crying face! I wish I had a camera to capture it since it’s so wretched! It’s much better than your boring doll face, yes, yes, yes!”

“Suka! Suka!” Hibiki lunged forward, but Kanade snatched her pigtails and yanked her back. She kicked and flailed, nearly slipping on the blood oozing out of Setsuka’s wounds. She clutched her head, her pupils becoming so wide they nearly covered her irises, and her howl echoed throughout the pool, bouncing around and recoiling Setsuka’s throbbing mind.

And just like Hibiki, she slouched. She shuddered and slid in her seat, watching Hibiki collapse into Kanade’s arms, her expression a blank canvas. Kanade stroked through Hibiki’s hair, her grin reminding Setsuka of a devil. She reached out and tried finding strength in her vocal cords to ask them a simple question, but her breath slipped past her bloody lips, and the light faded from her eyes.

Falling over, she collapsed on the tiles and twitched. With her face marred in her own blood, she thought, _Wasn’t I good to you?_

As if to mock her while her soul faded from the world, Kanade said, “Thanks for being my sister’s friend, Suka.”


	20. Investigating With A Killer - Emma & Hajime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma knows the culprit, but Hajime can't tell her his methods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Spoilers, Missing Scene, Friendship, Canonical Character Death, Questioning

Investigating together proved strange when the culprit was between them. Emma inspected the wires strung up in the bell tower, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Scarlet droplets fell from them, and she watched them land on the Yuri’s head, his hair already drenched in his blood. 

Pressing her hand to her cheek, she asked, “Who could have done something like this?”

Hajime stuffed his hands into his pockets as he crouched by Yuri’s body, saying, “I dunno, but what a pretty messed up way to die.”

She hummed and clipped a lock of hair behind her ear. Leaning behind Hajime, she leaned over him and inspected Yuri’s mangled limbs. They were grotesquely twisted, caricatures of what arms and legs should not have looked like on a person. She was reminded of a deformed mannequin with his glazed eyes staring right through her and shivered, shaking her head to control her emotions.

Hajime pressed two fingers to Yuri’s eyelids and closed them. Emma tilted her head, her wavy locks falling to the left as Hajime stood up. She remained quiet as he took off his sunglasses, his red eyes appearing dull and puffy.

“Not a wink of sleep, I suppose,” she whispered, footsteps echoing behind them. Glancing over her shoulder confirmed Kanade’s presence. She smiled at the guitarist, who scanned the crime scene and then, she scampered away to her trembling sister in the doorway. Making sure she was gone, she pressed her hand to Hajime’s broad shoulder.

Hajime pursed his lips and used his jacket as a cleaning cloth for his sunglasses. He rubbed them, inspected the lenses under the filtered light, and quickly placed them back on his face. Wiping beads of sweat away from the sides of his face, he sighed and hung his head.

“Do you think Yuri killed himself?” he asked, Sora and Yuki entering the room.

“Oh, I’m not sure. It seems strange considering the circumstances,” she said, cupping her chin.

Her answer didn’t attract their attention. Although she was used to the spotlight searing down on her, her vagueness kept the other Ultimates at bay. To them, they were as confused and shocked as them. She didn’t know the exact tricks used by her fellow Void, but she understood that he had been the one to kill Yuri in such a brutal, bloody way.

She supposed Yuri had it coming. Offering his life so easily for a foolish cause had been his downfall. In comparison, she knew the cause she and her fellow Voids shared was noble and desperate. While he thought he had happily sacrificed themslves, they needed the others to die so they could continue surviving in a cruel, unforgiving world.

“Maybe one of the girls did it,” Hajime said, peering at her over his sunglasses.

“Now, don’t start accusing me,” she said, the muscles in her arms tensing. She huffed and gripped her hip, their banter only making Sora and Yuki leave. As soon as they were gone, she gulped and asked, “How did you do it?”

“Can’t tell ya. That’ll ruin what Mikado has planned.” He shrugged his heavy shoulders. “I wish I could. You and the others wouldn’t have to be so stressed with solving this...mystery.”

She chuckled and shook her head, saying, “Well, it’s necessary for us not to know. Why, when Iroha goes next, I’ll be sure to look the other way when she kills someone.”

“At least I’ll get a front row seat to it. That monitoring room is pretty comforting,” he said, smirking. “It even has some great exercise equipment set up in there. I guess even Mikado likes to pump some iron.”

“His arms are so skinny, though,” she said, clicking her tongue.

Hajime stepped backwards and nodded. Emma pivoted on her heels and walked off, Hajime leaving in the opposite direction. Staying together for too long would prove suspicious. They might have been accused of conspiring together, and off they went searching for clues elsewhere.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel relieved. The Voids finally had their first kill, and Utsuro would be resurrected soon. Hajime really was lucky to be the first to go since she had to wait until after Iroha, and she couldn’t stop her mind from spinning with murderous schemes.

Though, in retrospect, as she watched Hajime’s body become nothing more than a bloodied, patched doll, she knew they should have been stopped from the very beginning.


	21. Only Chance To Rebel - Hibiki and Kanade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hibiki's final moments have granted her one opportunity to rid herself of Kanade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Execution, Canonical Character Death, No Dialogue, Blood and Gore, Birthday Fic, i wrote this on the twins' birthday so have some despair!!, really super quick fic since i wanted to get something out for their birthday, make any weird incest comments and i'll maim you

Somehow, the lights are too bright and too dim at the same time. Hibiki can hardly fathom that concept as she quivers, staring ahead at the survivors. They look on from the other side of the glass, their own expressions warped in terror, all except for Mikado and Syobai who wear blank masks.

She registers the checkerboard pattern on the platform. The purple and white tiles are cold as they press against her legs. She can hardly stop her chattering teeth despite the lights feeling as though they are burning through her uniform. Sweat dampens her brow and slips down her cheeks, a sharp contrast to the chills racing up and down her spine. 

Unshed tears blur her vision. She can’t will herself to glance over at her sister, her heavy panting causing her heart to beat faster. There is an odd musical track coming from somewhere she can’t place, and she doesn’t want to know where it’s coming from either. To her, the only sound that matters is the chain rattling behind her and her own heart thundering in her chest, the tight metal lock fastened around her neck making her gasping sound obstructed.

Before her, there is a pedestal. It claims only one will live if she gets the key. A single sister will make it out alive, and even though her thoughts are in disarray, like debris trapped in a tornado, she comprehends the situation.

Hibiki Otonokoji will die if she does not get that key. Even though she has killed someone, the opportunity to live has been given to her.

A beep dings above her head, and the game begins. She doesn’t bother to observe the mocking title card as it plays behind her, the beautiful stained glass painting dyed in blood. All she knows is that she must move, and she forces herself to stand, her arms pumping at her sides as she gnashes down on her teeth.

But she falls. Her arms splay forward, and her mind blanks. She slams into the ground, her front teeth jostling as her chin crashes into the tiles. The sweat that had accumulated on her brow downpours as she looks over her shoulder, her cheeks paling in horror from the monster attached to her legs.

Kanade’s mouth is stretched wide open. Drool dribbles down her lower lip and down her chin. She has her sister’s leg bound in criss-cross hold and tightens her grasp. She doesn’t make a single sound, her pupils so dark and big that Hibiki feels like she could fall through them. With flushed cheeks, her despair is palpable, her desire to see Hibiki’s final expression before her death permeating the air like a foul stench.

Hibiki can’t even scream. She doesn’t hear the voices of her friends shouting her name. Blood pumps between her ears, and her mind pulses with an emotion she had never felt before. It feels like she’s being electrocuted, but her body remains still, ensnared in Kanade’s grasp as she reaches up for her, her lips moving and saying nothing at all.

She had spent years as her doll. All she had known was despair. Her parents, her pets, her friends, all of them had became Kanade’s victims for the sake of despair. That husk devoid of emotions, that puppet for Kanade to control, that had been her, her memories lost to time as Kanade sunk her fingers around her neck and whisked her around.

_Not anymore._

Those two words risen up in the back of her mind, and her hand shoots for her pocket. Raising her arm high above her head, she swivels around and glares so mightily that Kanade releases her. Her microphone glimmers under the confusing lights, and with a silent, close-lipped roar, she snatches Kanade’s hair and swings down like a judge slamming her gavel.

Kanade’s skull breaks so easily. Blood bursts from the crown of her head. She tugs at her hair, tearing off a few tresses as she bludgeons her two more times. The cracking of her skull pierces through the music chanting behind her, the blood appearing more like paint as it cakes her hair.

She collapses so easily, and Hibiki has no time to ponder. She doesn’t want to think about what her life could have been like if she had rebelled sooner. All she can do now is struggle, the chains pulling Kanade’s body higher and higher into the air as she drags herself forward. Throwing her arm out, she hiccups and groans as she reaches for the key, gnawing down on her lower lip. Her sister’s slick, wet blood clings to her chest and face. Heat burns her expression a brilliant crimson, the rattling chain only encouraging her to move forward, Kanade’s feet slapping against the ground empowering her to reach a little farther.

She snatches the key and doesn’t hesitate. She shoves it right into her lock, her mouth stuck in a grin. The click is more than satisfying, the music cutting off as soon as it fits. It’s like the final note in a powerful melody. It’s all she can hear. It’s all she can understand.

Her head moves slightly, and sweat cools on her face.

And then, her head is torn right off with a sickening squelching sound.

Her body collapses, and she faces Kanade. Her grin is frozen on her face. She can only blink, her brain not comprehending what had happened. It buzzes, the lack of oxygen swift and apparent, and colors swirl around her, but she can see Kanade too clearly.

Kanade is awed. She looks up at her with sheer wonder. Her hands are tucked in her lap as she rests on the ground.

And as Hibiki’s sight fails, Kanade’s expression twists for the last time into something loving and something despairing. She got exactly what she always desired. Hibiki’s final expression, it is like her sister had given to her own a silver platter, and she didn’t have to lift a finger.

_I could never escape, could I?_ Hibiki thinks as the platform falls away with her body, the world sinking into darkness as Kanade struggles for breath.


	22. Untraceable - Kokoro & Sora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is something wrong with Sora, but Kokoro cannot fathom what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Missing Scene, Mystery, Fear, Shock & Awe, Dialogue Light, kokoro doesn't know what to make of sora, another spur of the moment short fic since i realized i hadn't written kokoro and sora interacting and their dynamic is interesting, no real spoilers but there are vague implications about sora.

Kokoro didn’t know why she froze when she noticed Sora for the first time. Anxiety pulsed in her bloodstream, spreading throughout her body a chilling numbness. The veins in her neck felt like they were bulging. Her fingers tightened around her tablet, a glacial terror filling her without understanding the reason why.

She maintained her cold front. Her emotions were in check and so was their conversation. It was a typical one filled with exposition, information she could have easily gleaned from looking at Sora’s eyes. 

Her partner’s heart was on his sleeve. Yuki was like an open book. He was a boy with a pure heart and an easygoing, yet cautious personality. He certainly fit the Super High School Level Luck moniker, leaving little to speculate about him.

But Sora was different. Her amnesia, her stern eyes, the way she carried herself, something was off. Her words were spoken truthfully, but deception burned in her eyes, her mask like a porcelain doll ready to crack at the slightest pressure. 

She was an incoming storm, one feared by sailors across the sea. Destruction followed her beck and call, wind and hail ready to smash down upon Utsuroshima. And she didn’t even realize it much to Kokoro’s bewilderment. Her honesty and lies mingling together to make up such a strange, emboldened young woman made Kokoro’s heart skip a beat when she understood that Sora was someone she could not read.

Kokoro’s talent set her apart from others. She unearthed true emotions from her patients. No matter how agonizing those feelings impacted them, she clawed them out, remarking upon them with a curt tongue. All for the sake of analysis, she would gladly scoop out Sora’s insides to see what made her tick.

But she couldn’t do that. She wasn’t in the safety of her office. She knew she was a target the moment she stepped foot into the killing game. Kokoro was too powerful for her own good, a concept she understood far better than the other participants, and judging from their glances, she knew some of them were already planning to kill as Monocrow laid down the rules.

Now, here she is basking under the moonlight. The ocean waves crest against the ship, the stars twinkling in the dark liquid which reminds her of sludge. Seaweed floats among the waves, carried off to lands unknown. Kokoro gazes out to where the water blends with the sky, pitch black contaminations reminding her of oil spills that seem to stretch on forever.

She isn’t alone. Sora is with her holding on to the railing. Her gaze is endless, miles of curiosity and worry. She had joined Kokoro without asking, and they stand together in silence. Awkwardness doesn’t exist in the space fit for only them. They relish in it as Kokoro watches Sora glide her palm across the smooth surface of the railing, her mask perfectly positioned with a neutral expression.

“What do you think about all of this?” Sora asks, focused on some spot in the sky that Kokoro cannot discern.

“The killing game?” she inquires, curling a lock of brown hair behind her ear. When Sora nods, she sighs. “People will die. I hope you will be prepared for it.”

Sora stares at her from the corner of her eye, and it takes all of Kokoro’s willpower not to shudder. She tightens her grip on the railing, the hint of white knuckles clashing with the darkness. Leaning back, Sora steps towards her and tilts her head, her chin tucked to her chest as she examines Kokoro, a position the Super High School Level Therapist would often use with her unwilling patients.

“Then, I guess I’ll have to solve them,” she says, “because I sure as hell don’t want to die.”

Her words are filled with resolve. Her honesty should have been a relief, but like the current crashing against the ship from a particularly strong breeze, her words crash into her. They fill her with an unspoken dread, her thoughts twisting as she wraps herself around Sora’s proclamation. There is something else hidden in her words, which chills her to the bone, but Kokoro cannot discern that meaning, and for the first time, she fully understands fear.

“I see. Well-” Kokoro clears her throat. “-I will do the same.”

“I’m glad we’re allies,” Sora replies, her pupils losing their constriction. She brushes through her bangs, the moonlight making her hair appear white and like the wings of an angel.

Kokoro nods. Nothing else is said between them as Sora walks past her, their arms brushing together. Another chill races down Kokoro’s spine, the slightest touch making her heart leap into her throat.

But she remains quiet. Her mask is far stronger than Sora’s. She will not crack so easily.

After Sora leaves, the metal doors slamming shut behind her, Kokoro sucks down a sharp breath. The sea salt in the breeze hits her tongue and makes her lips purse. She itches through her scalp, her slippers pitter-pattering as she paces from side to side. Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she clutches her tablet to her chest and hopes the pressure would stop her thundering heart.

Something is very, very wrong with Sora. For the solution to elude her, Kokoro despairs over what will come throughout the killing game.


	23. A Promise Unkempt - Shinji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setsuka is dead. The twins are dead. Shinji mourns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Canonical Character Death, Regret, Angst, Nausea, references to illness and almost vomiting, shinji wishes he was a better leader and wishes he did better.

Nausea plagued Shinji as he made his way back to his bedroom. He felt like bile was pooling in his stomach, accumulating in a thick mush which weighed him down. He bowed his head, idly rubbing his chest as he fumbled for his handbook in his back pocket. His vision crossed as he stumbled into the wall when he rounded the corner, doubling his surroundings and twisting the portraits lining the hall into cruel caricatures.

Rubbing his head, Shinji swallowed. He marched forward, his goal in sight. Gripping his handbook, he smacked it against the sensor by his door. At the familiar click, he snatched the doorknob and opened it, hobbling inside not caring if anyone saw his weakness.

He didn’t bother searching for a light switch. He knew the way to his bed very well. Pulling the door shut behind him, he kicked off his boots and felt the weight of the world leave his shoulders when he collapsed onto the sheets. He felt his clothes stick to his bed, the sweat on his face dripping down as he tried biting back a sob, the stench of copper wafting into his nostrils even though he was far, far away from those disfigured corpses.

He knew he should have been on top of them. He should have realized Kanade was planning something heinous. She demonstrated her cruelty in the second trial with expressions so gruesome they belonged in horror films. That red flag was raised, and he ignored it, his mind troubled with the videos presented by Monocrow and insisted they would all be able to overcome them together.

Such an innocent desire left Setsuka dead and the twins executed. It was a childish claim which culminated in three deaths. He wasn’t able to prevent such an obvious murder from happening right under his nose. To think, Hibiki disguised herself and had Setsuka’s hands tucked in her shirt, perfecting herself as her sister while Kanade sent Setsuka to her final resting place in the Ghost House.

He cupped his mouth and gulped back vomit. His stomach churned again, and he flipped himself over to his left side. Furrowing his brows, he clenched his eyes shut and wished he was facing a roaring fire. Racing against the clock to save a child from a burning building was preferable to the nightmare he found himself unable to awaken from.

“Shinji, you said you wouldn’t let another murder happen if we all unified,” Yuki said after the trial, leering at him with eyes so glazed over they belonged on a corpse, “Try harder.”

Yuki was right. He let everyone down with his naive belief in everyone. Focusing on winning over the remaining Voids, he let Kanade sneak around right in front of him, dragging Hibiki in tow to commit a murder he could have prevented.

Closing his eyes, he grimaced as his upper abdomen ached. He tried sucking down air, but his lungs felt too expanded, overfilled to the point where they jutted against his ribs. His body refused to cooperate with his begging mind, leaving him wracked with guilt which wouldn’t be quelled with a simple apology.

Dragging his fingers through his hair, he wished tomorrow would never come. He hoped against hope that he would never wake up. Facing the others, pretending to the heroic leader, it was all too much.

Shinji wept until sleep granted him mercy, but even then, the killers tormented his dreams.


	24. Champagne Dreams - Yoruko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoruko mixes a couple drinks and basks in the ungratefulness of her patrons and fellow hostesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Pre-Canon, Spoilers, Alcohol, Clubbing, Bar/Pub, warning for a minor making alcoholic beverages with a slight urge to drink one, happy birthday yoruko!!

The bubbles drifted to the top of the glass. Yoruko watched them pop, their shimmer an array of colors under the mood lights. Blues, yellows, and greens all meshed in the wine, swirling for what could have been an eternity if she stood there, her feet cemented to the ground behind the bar.

“Tomoyo. Hey, Tomoyo!”

She winced, her head jerking up. Her grip remained firm around the drink. She flicked her attention to the young woman narrowing her deep green eyes at her, her contacts appearing far too big to be normal.

She chuckled and took the glass from her. “Don’t start daydreaming, Tomoyo. We still have a lot of drinks to make.”

“I’m sorry, Haruno. I was, um…” She fiddled with the hem of her dress.

“Inspecting the drink?” Haruno finished and waved another girl over. She handed the glass to her, whispered something, and then shooed her away. “I know you’re striving for perfection, but when you’re working here, people just want to booze it up.”

Yoruko managed a smile. It tensed her mouth as Haruno sauntered back into the throng of people, the platter held tightly in her left hand, the small kegs accessible to everyone. She rubbed her hands together as she pivoted on her heels, her pink hair caressing her bare shoulder blades as she surveyed the shelves containing a variety of spirits, wines, and beers. Alcohol wafted around her, and she felt like she could have bathed in it, the air moist enough to wet her skin when she reached for another bottle, the next order repeating in her head.

_Bloody Mary. Make it with tomato juice, vodka, lemon juice, garlic, and olives. Bloody Mary. Tomato juice. Vodka. Lemon juice. Garlic. Olives._

Like a worker managing a conveyor belt, she grabbed what she needed. Her eyes darted through a plethora of ingredients, her free hand clutching the bottles of vodka and lemon juice. Spotting the olives, she snatched a fistful of them and went to search for a knife when she frowned. She still needed the tomato juice and set her items aside on the counter, feeling the room shake as the DJ played another deafening song from the latest idol group, the shrill voices of young adults making her head pound like the beating bass drum.

But she was used to the cacophony. She was a hostess. It was her duty to entertain and serve guests. Her role tonight was as a bartender, and her performance was almost top notch. Forgetting the tomato juice had unnerved her, but after she found it in one of the cabinets, she made quick work of the drink. Cutting what she needed, pouring the right amount of liquids, mixing and shaking them well enough for her guest to drink himself into a stupor.

Yoruko held the deep crimson drink in both hands. It chilled her palms, the sweat on her skin sticking to her arms. She almost wished she could have drank it herself, to taste what they all so desperately craved as they danced the night away, leaving behind their cares and their lives.

Raising her head, Yoruko smiled and handed the drink over to a man with pupils too wide to be normal. She asked if he was doing well, but he ambled off, his mouth occupied with the Bloody Mary pouring down his throat and escaping through the corners of his lips.

_I should really pick better gigs,_ she thought, masking her sigh behind her hand.

But as the champagne rose to her chest and continued filling the bottle, Yoruko couldn’t fathom why she remembered that particular moment before it all went blue.


	25. Morning Joe - Setsuka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setsuka drinks her coffee on the balcony of the Monocruise, the truth sitting in her pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, No Dialogue, Introspection, Coffee, Slight Spoilers, Drabble

The mug warmed her hands. Setsuka traced the porcelain rim as she gazed out over the sea. Waves crested against the sides of the Monocruise. The scent of coffee wafted around her, mingling with the salty scent of the sea. It was a pleasant moment, a rarity she realized as she sipped and savored the rich taste before swallowing, uttering a quiet sigh which the breeze carried off to parts unknown.

She usually enjoyed her coffee with the others. Being surrounded by her friends would have enriched the taste, but the dull ache in the back of her head demanded solitude. She had whisked herself away to the balcony overlooking the ocean. Having cast a reassuring smile to the other students muted their concerns when she left, and she was able to drink her coffee without a care in the world.

Though, she knew that wasn’t entirely true. When she slipped her hand into her breast pocket, the truth crinkled and pressed against her fingers. The scrap wasn’t even large, being smaller than a sheet of paper in a notebook, but it contained a secret more devastating than she ever could have imagined.

But right now, she didn’t want to focus on the impending despair. She wanted to enjoy the taste of her black coffee. She felt like the hot liquid was melting her tongue. Compared to the nerves jittering in her gut, she enjoyed the sensation more than she would have liked to admit.

Setsuka set her mug on the railing. A faintly pink outline of her lips pressed into the rim. Reaching into her pocket, she uncapped her lipstick, the soft shade of rose complementing her eyes. She applied it with a deft hand, her movement practised and poised. Rubbing her lips together, she opened them with a silent _pop._ Setting her lipstick in her pants pocket, she nibbled on the inside of her mouth, careful to avoid the lipstick staining her pearly white teeth.

Another sigh escaped her. She told herself it would be fine, that she only needed a little more time. Keeping the others at bay, especially poor Hibiki with pure worry sparkling in her magenta eyes, pinched her heart. It was a necessary precaution, especially since any of them could have been Voids. Even the associate who asked her to find information for him could have deceiving her.

But she still wanted to believe in their intrinsic virtue. Yuri had been a good man, if too quick to pass judgment on men. Kokoro had distanced herself, but she wanted to pursue the truth. Even the Voids had their positive attributes when their masks fell. Hajime and Emma had been her friends, and although she despised what she deemed senseless killings, if there was a chance they could have met in another life, she was certain they would have been better friends.

She believed that for the rest of them. Hibiki and Nikei trusted her. Shinji uplifted the mood when despair weighed heavily on their shoulders. The ones who were a little rough around the edges like Syobai and Sora, she believed they had their good points underneath their layers.

Taking another sip of coffee, Setsuka tilted her head up and watched the clouds drift across the sky. Smiling to herself, she imprinted that sight to her memory as she turned away, her heels clicking on the floor, leaving behind her worries and doubts with the ocean breeze.


	26. The Monster In Your Head - Yuki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is someone growing inside Yuki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Spoilers, Referenced Body Horror, Referenced Character Death, Trauma, Anxiety, Drabble, my favorite part about utsuro is when junko tore into his character since he's just a walking plot device.

Yuki Maeda was aware of his transformation. He was painfully conscious of his criticism against the others, sharp and rebuking. He had also begun distancing himself from them and believed it was the safest route. It was the only way he could protect himself in a killing game filled with madmen and murderers, each of them just waiting for their chance to strike if he dropped his guard for a mere second.

Discord followed. Shinji reprimanded him. Sora roared at him. They despised his cynicism and ire, claiming he was selfish, that he stopped putting in genuine effort in keeping the students united against the mastermind and Voids. 

But they were wrong. He had given himself body and soul to them. Yuki trusted the other students with his entire heart. They were his friends, and he thought his kindness earned him their respect only to realize their way of playing the game was too trusting. Kanade and the Voids had already proven that Shinji, Setsuka, and Sora’s methods of cooperation and comradery wouldn’t work, especially with Mikado’s almighty control over the killing game, one that not even Monocrow could disobey.

He knew he should have been afraid of the person he was becoming. The beast in his heart fed and grew on his anxiety and fear. It clawed and gnawed on his guts, filling his mouth with bile and shredding through his innards. He should have been frightened by him. Any sane person would have been seeking help or crying into the arms of a dear one, but being immersed in the killing game where he lost friends in the blink of an eye altered whatever fear he had left within him and churned it into sheer apathy.

When Shinji’s blood stained his hands, he no longer cared. Hollowness replaced trust. Horror slew love. Only a shadow of himself remained. All he really was in the killing game was a puppet marionetted by Mikado making him dance to a despairing tune and slip and slide on the blood of his friends.

The dark circles underneath his eyes reminded him of ash the morning after Shinji’s demise. Touching them made him shiver. The skin felt oddly smooth, too smooth, like he was caressing a wax doll. Leering at his reflection, sallow and pale, he thought it suited the monster perfectly as those dead eyes with pinprick pupils glared back at him.

_Utsuro,_ he thought, his bitten fingernails carving red marks into his palms as he turned away from his bathroom mirror, _is that who I am now? Am I really him?_

Yuki remained silent because if he answered himself, then he feared it would be the final nail in his coffin. 

But as luck would have it, as the roulette wheel spun and landed on his fate, he trembled as the answer came to him before he was crushed.


	27. Settled In - Setsuka, Tsurugi, and Nikei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigators Setsuka and Nikei receive a new mission from the leader of the Kisaragi Foundation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Spoilers, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Mentor/Protege, Mission Fic, Teasing, Compassion, Future Fic

“...and that’s how Kenichi Yamamoto was able to hide the bodies of his victims,” Setsuka said, tapping the manilla folder against her open palm.

Tsurugi leered up at the smirking woman from behind his desk. He accepted the file and flipped it open, scanning its contents quickly. Bodies covered in volcanic ash and detailed descriptions of their deaths and decomposition presented themselves to him. He didn’t need to read them yet when Setsuka’s words were valued more than the neatly typed information gathered by the teenaged boy standing next to her. Of course, he would carefully read and inspect every sentence Setsuka’s protege wrote for further clarification, but for now, he was satisfied with her explanation and set the folder aside, clasping his hands together.

“Thank you. Your work has once again greatly assisted the Kisaragi Foundation,” he said, his wheelchair creaking as he leaned forward. Resting his elbows on his mahogany desk, he glanced at Setsuka’s ward. Noticing the lump rising and falling in his throat, he asked, “Nikei, how are you faring within the organization?”

Nikei shifted his weight onto his left leg. He managed to swallow down the anxiety that had culminated in his throat, a phlegm-coated wad which had blocked his words before Setsuka took over the conversation. His lips quirked into a grin, the same confidence he exuded when he walked into Tsurugi’s office returning when Setsuka glanced down at him, and he nodded, his hair hiding the beads of sweat on his brow.

“And your…” Tsurugi narrowed his eyes. “...compatriots?”

Setsuka snickered, her lone eye glimmering with amusement. “Hajime’s really taken a liking to Shinji’s work with the Restoration. He’s a real help on the battlefield when they need to save people.” Her smile widened and showed off more pearly white teeth. “And Hibiki and Emma are really hitting it off on their celebrity tour.” She flashed her grin at Nikei. “To think they’ve become so close when they were so snide with each other in the simulation.”

He chuckled, slow puffs of air leaving him. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he said, “Yeah, Emma wasn’t a big fan of that crybaby.” His smile faded as another question itched the back of his mind. The last member of the Children of Utsuro flashed in his head, her long brunette locks and silver gray eyes parts of her that he could never forget.

“As for Iroha Nijiue,” Tsurugi interjected when Nikei opened his mouth, “we still haven’t recovered her or Syobai Hashimoto. They’ve been on the run for quite some time.” He glanced at Setsuka who merely cocked her head. “I think you understand what my next assignment is for you both.”

She chuckled. The insinuation was loud and clear. Iroha and Syobai escaped captivity, leading them to become fugitives on the run for almost a full year. She remembered Midori ranting and raving to her about how they pulled her hair and almost nicked her carotid arteries with their knife during their mad dash of an escape plan.

Nikei dug in his heels. Like his mentor, he caught the implication. He already had a sneaking suspicion where Iroha and Syobai could have gone. A flight out of Japan and into the unknown was the more typical conclusion, but if he knew Iroha, then she’d want to stay far, far away from the Kisaragi Foundation and her past. He knew that Midori would be waiting to punch her in the face if they ever made eye contact again.

“What will happen if-when we find them?” Nikei asked as Tsurugi opened his laptop and began typing.

Tsuguri passed him a cursory glance, the clacking of the keys like dull pricks in Nikei’s head. “I think you know already.”

“Nik, don’t worry,” Setsuka said, patting his squared shoulder. “I’m sure Rugi is gonna find a place for her in the organization without punishing her too badly. After all, he did find places for you, Em, and Jim when we all woke up.” She chuckled at his cheeks darkened. “Also, Syobai is a reliable guy, too, so I’m positive Rugi wants him on our side without any more killing game or assassination nonsense.” She grinned back at Tsurugi. “Just to keep an eye on him. Am I right?”

“He can be bought and sold, and Iroha’s loyalty lies with whoever can protect her,” Tsurugi remarked, reaching down underneath his desk. The printer tucked next to his drawers hissed, and it spewed out several papers, one of them being a map of Iroha and Syobai’s last known location. He handed them to Setsuka, saying, “You know my account information. Ask what amount will buy him and Iroha’s services.” He lowered his hand back to his knee and gripped it with white-knuckled intensity. “Afterwards, we’ll make sure they won’t escape again.”

“Don’t lay a finger on her,” Nikei growled only to quickly scoff when Tsurugi glared at him. “That brat is a coward, but she’s been with Syobai for months. I can only imagine what she’s seen now because of him.”

Kneading his shoulder, Setsuka nodded. “Don’t worry, Nik. We’ll be able to convince them to rejoin the Kisaragi Foundation. If not…” She shrugged. “...well, that’s a situation which won’t happen.”

As she whirled around, her heels clicking on the tiled floor, Nikei stomped after her and snapped, “You can’t deny that possibility, Setsuka! Syobai’s a prick! He might ask for more after we give him the initial amount or use Iroha as a hostage!”

“Aw, worried about your old friend? That’s some good character development right there, Nik,” she teased, reaching up and gently pinching his cheek.

He swatted her hand away as she opened the door for him, snarling, “What are you, my grandmother? You seriously pinched my cheek?”

“That’s just what mentors do,” she sang, laughing a honeyed tone as Nikei groaned.

While Nikei criticized her on their way out, Tsurugi sighed. He watched the door slam shut and listened to their footsteps descend down the hallway. Leaning back in his wheelchair, he dragged his hand down his face and wondered how they could have become his best investigators.


	28. Bad Habits - Shinji and Hajime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinji catches Hajime ready to light a cigarette, leading to a discussion about why they used to smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Future Fic, Alternate Canon, Smoking, Past Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Dark Past, Comfort, Father Figures, Introspection, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Mentor/Protege.

“Thought you quit,” Shinji remarks as Hajime lights up on the balcony of his hotel room.

Hajime glances at him over the rim of his glasses. The cigarette dangles between his calloused fingers, his other hand holding a cheap, plastic lighter taken from a dilapidated convenience store. The sun dips low in the horizon, a bloody droplet much like one which would run over his lips in the aftermath of a fight.

He hasn’t had a drag yet. Shinji had interrupted him before he could breathe in the smog, which dangles from the tip. It wafts around his head, wispy and thin. Sighing, he tastes it on his tongue, the smoke drifting through his teeth and past his gums before slipping down his throat.

Shinji plucks the lighter from him and pockets it. Hajime doesn’t resist, merely gazing at him unblinkingly. Dark circles ring underneath his eyes, reminding Shinji of charred skin. He offers his other hand, and Hajime snuffs the cigarette out on the railing, the embers flickering and dying in a few twists. Tossing it to Shinji, Hajime runs his fingers through his hair, and Shinji catches it in his massive hand, the faint orange hue still lingering on the tip.

“Before you ask, I picked it off one of the Despairs we fought today,” Hajime asks when Shinji’s mouth opens.

He hums, acknowledging it as the most honest statement he would get out of Hajime. “And I’m guessing you pilfered it off Haiji,” he remarks, the smirk etching into Hajime’s cheek making his own brow furrow.

“He did get away, but he dropped it after I slugged ‘im,” he says, shrugging, a sluggish slumping of his shoulders.

Towa City’s skyline bleeds with rustic glory. The skyscrapers are dark silhouettes, shadows of their former selves as the moon steadily rises. Somewhere in the city’s bowels, a child cries, and a Monokuma laughs.

Hajime glares over his shoulder at the city. A dull ache throbs in his shoulder when he rolls them back. He hasn’t stretched upon returning to the hotel where Shinji’s team recuperates from the mission. He digs his fingers against his shoulder and feels the taut muscle beneath skin scarred from needles filled with solutions to make his head spin in delirium or ecstasy.

“I used to smoke,” Shinji announces, catching Hajime’s attention.

“You? Kind of ironic since you’re a former firefighter,” he snorts, clapping his hand on his thigh.

He scratches his nose, even though there’s no itch. “Well, we all had our vices when we were younger.”

Hajime grunts and bobs his head. He drags his tongue across his teeth and tastes rot. The smoke still lingers in his mouth, and chemicals sink into his taste buds, reminding him of days he would rather forget.

“Why’d you stop?” Hajime asks.

The sunset falls victim to the darkness.Twilight slowly melts, stars beginning to twinkle until there is only a crescent sliver of the sun left in the horizon. The yen coin moon ascends and shines a light on Shinji as he stands next to Hajime on the balcony. He raises his hand and flicks the cigarette stub, which flips in the air like an Olympian diver, spinning perfectly before plummeting head first to the cracked concrete below and joins dried blood splatters and splinters of bones.

“I had my vices,” he says, peering at Hajime out of the corner of his eye, “just like you had yours.”

Alcohol burns his throat. Hajime shivers despite the lack of wind. He rubs his neck and caresses a pin-sized scar just above his jugular vein.

“We’ve all had our dark times.” Shinji closes his eyes and drags his knuckles across the chin, the stubble scratching his digits. He grips the balcony, and his wedding ring pinches his finger. “But I came out of it. Kicking and screaming, you know? Kicking and screaming.”

Hajime twists his fingers through his ponytail. Split ends tickle his palm. Bones crack and blood gushes out of invisible wounds. His mind’s eye forms broken bodies below him in the graveyard of a street, their writhing, groaning forms figments of his past, and his fists ache.

“And you’re the same,” Shinji finishes. “You came out of this kicking and screaming.”

“Are you telling me you smoked as a firefighter?” Hajime jeers, but the small smile on Shinji’s face silences him.

“Stress got to me. I snuck little puffs of it here and there. Away from my family, too. I didn’t want them worrying about my well-being.” Shinji glances at the ground, but he cannot locate the stub from Hajime’s eighth floor room. “Even now, I still get the urge for a smoke break.”

“Why smoking?” He straightens. “You’re just as much of a health nut as I am.”

Shinji shrugs. “It comforted me. Relaxed me.”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “Even though you had to run through fire and smoke saving people and all that stuff?”

“Ironic, just like you said.” His expression slackens, allowing Hajime to see the age lines more clearly. Regret and weariness replace the emboldened persona he had dawned. The way his cheeks sag slightly, the crow’s feet pinching his eyes, the laugh lines around his mouth, he is not the young man Hajime had trained with in the simulation. 

But Shinji is much stronger than he had once been. In body and spirit, Hajime knows it well. Experience has subdued his temper and steeled his courage. He is not a raging flame, but a constant warmth like the sun, the temperate incarnate of guidance and perseverance.

“Don’t let me catch you trying to sneak a cigarette again. It’s not worth the lung cancer,” Shinji warns, flashing a bright smile, his teeth still as sharp as ever.

Hajime waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah, I’m not feeling like starting again.” He wipes his lips. “It’s like reliving a bad memory, y’know? Just like that. Just wanted to experience it again.”

“Why’s that?”

He drums his fingers on the balcony. The sun fades out of the sight. The sky fills with hues of purple and gray, painting over the blood.

“I guess to know I’m not still there,” is Hajime’s answer, and Shinji wraps his arm around his shoulder, the wind beginning to blow the scent of smog far, far away.

And Hajime no longer tastes it when he swallows, stifling a sob as Shinji rubs his back, telling him to let it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm no longer taking any requests for this series, sorry! i'm working on personal stuff and other fics at the moment.


	29. Another Way - Yuki/Nikei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fortune intervenes on Yuki's behalf before Nikei can attack him with the taser, and Nikei finds himself unable to continue his plan when Yuki pulls him close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: During Canon, Alternate Canon, Tumblr Prompt, Ficlet, Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Hatred
> 
> written for a tumblr anon who asked for nikei/yuki with "Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath" from a 50 wordless ways to say i love you prompts.

Fortune spits on Nikei the second Yuki pivots on his heels.

They catch eyes, and Nikei’s heart drops into his stomach. No words are exchanged. Only the sound of the taser crackling with electricity fills the silence. It sparks and fizzles louder than their heartbeats, and all they can do is listen, their thoughts terminated.

Nikei trembles. He almost drops the taser. He feels his skin crawl underneath his thick clothing. His arms tingle as if ants are running across them, their little legs digging into his pores.

He knows what he must do. Even if Fortune has pivoted from his favor, he can spin the roulette. The chance still exists to enact his plan. All he has to do is strike Yuki with the taser, take him to the energy room, and trick his classmates into believing his scenario. Even if Yuki is partial to his scheme, he still does not know the entire truth, providing Nikei the upper hand as he draws his arm back, more than ready to plunge the taser into Yuki’s chest.

“Nikei,” he whispers, teeth chattering, “what is this? What are you doing?”

Yuki’s questions are foolish. Although he can appreciate them as a journalist, the answers are obvious and reasonable. Yuki should have realized what Nikei was doing the moment he turned around. Nikei smirks when the blood drains from Yuki’s face, the unanswered truth lingering between them, and the taser becomes more than comfortable in his grip.

Yuki’s expression twists. Distress wrinkles his brow and dilates his pupils. His hands shake in front of his chest, and he’s breathing too heavily, the sound offensive to Nikei’s ears. Yuki blinks and gulps almost like a child, lost and confused in a world which refuses to understand him.

“Sorry you had to turn around,” Nikei remarks, “but there isn’t another way.”

“Wai-wait, wait, Nikei, wait!” Yuki cries out, but Nikei kicks off, the taser thrusting towards his neck.

The electricity should have been coursing through Yuki’s body. It should have burst around them, lighting up Nikei’s world a brilliant blue. Then, Yuki should have slumped to the ground, and he would have carried him to the energy room, continuing his plan as if the hiccup hadn’t happened.

But Yuki slaps his wrist. The impact is enough to loosen Nikei’s grasp on the taser. It spins in midair, but Yuki makes no effort to grab it, and Nikei is too shocked to reach up. It clatters uselessly to the floor, skidding to the side and crackling, its presence painfully known.

Nikei gawks. His right hand twitches. The air between his fingers chills him to the bone. His molars gnash together, and he steels himself, ignoring how his stomach churns and sloshes, anxiety pooling in his gut.

But before he can lunge for the taser, Yuki pounces. He’s like a tiger, propelling off his legs and shooting his arms at him. Nikei flinches, gasping, feeling like his lungs are being compressed as Yuki slams him to the ground. His hat flies off his head. His back collides first, cracking, but Yuki’s arms which wrap around him so strongly take his breath away. His heart refuses to pump, stilling the blood in his veins as they remain on the ground, Nikei forgetting how to move when Yuki tightens the embrace.

He gazes at the ceiling. His hat flutters above him and below him, the hem grazing his ankle. The taser is too far away, and his chattering teeth are too loud, overpowering his thoughts and rationality, forcing him to focus on the warmth blossoming in his chest.

Yuki’s face is buried into Nikei’s neckerchief. His breath bleeds through the fabric and hits his neck. A shiver races up his spine, but it’s quickly subdued by Yuki squeezing him so tightly he fears his ribs will crack.

“There has to be another way,” Yuki murmurs, his nostrils flaring and muscles twitching. He chokes on his own breath and swallows it. He flicks his head up, his chin digging into Nikei’s clavicle, his words airy and wheezy as he pleads, “Please, there has to be something better than this.”

A cruel part of him wants to spit laughter in his face. It urges Nikei to sneer, to shove him off and grab the taser. Finishing the job and defeating Mikado is his truest goal. He wants nothing more than to watch Mikado writhe in despair, his glory ripped away from him when the victory line is in sight by none other than Nikei.

But the red in Yuki’s cheeks, the tears brimming in his eyes, and the strength in his hug steal Nikei’s resolve. He feels his lips part, chapped, soundless. For all of his linguistics, speech fails him, and he cannot write what he wishes to convey despite knowing that Yuki would fully understand with or without words.

He shudders, the contrasting warmth from Yuki and the chilling floor sending his body into a sweaty overdrive. It’s too much for someone as sinful as him, for someone who had immersed himself in wickedness for the sake of a memory. He had allowed his teammates to be whisked away and joined them in their desperate search. Two of them had already died, and he is at death’s door, more than prepared to join them if he could not win.

And yet, he tricks himself. He tells himself there is no other way, that he cannot execute his plan. He lets Yuki sob into his neck, his stress palpable and hot. Nikei closes his eyes and rolls them to the top of his skull, willing his own tears away while the game continues on down below.

In the safety of Yuki’s arms, Nikei believes in second chances.


	30. Preventative - Yuki/Nikei, Rei, and Kinjo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikei wakes up from the simulation to the leaders of the Kisaragi Foundation, and despite his instinct to ask all the questions, he only has one demand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Tumblr Prompt, Alternate Canon, Nobody Dies AU, Help, Shock & Awe, Developing Relationship, Hopeful Ending.
> 
> written for irlnikeiyomiuri who asked for "where does it hurt?" from a question ideas list!

Nikei opened his eyes and stared at fluorescent lights above him. He squinted instinctively, and his lips felt dry and chapped. He heard voices, but they were muffled, sounding more like whispers carried by the wind to his ears.

But they stopped when he shifted. They watched him sit upright and observed his hands glide along the metal casing of his pod. Nikei pressed his palm to his forehead, understanding everything in an instant, painfully aware that he was situated in a reality squarely out of his control.

At least in the theater with Hajime and Emma, he knew what would happen to him. It was a situation he understood. Now, he was left to wonder.

He raised his head, his clothes heavy and suffocating. His neckerchief choked him, and he fiddled with the cloth. High heels sharply hit the floor as someone approached him. Based on the jet black color, he knew they belonged to Rei, and when he glanced at her, his hat shifting to the side, he met her glare with half-lidded interest.

“Welcome back, Nikei Yomiuri,” she said without a hint of pleasure.

He noticed Kinjo wheeling himself over, his hat shadowing his eyes, but he was certain they were narrowed into slits on him. He cleared his throat, swallowing back phlegm and saliva. Taking a breath, Nikei coughed out a greeting, hoping to sound as casual as possible towards the one who held his fate in his fist.

“You’re the fourth one to awaken,” Kinjo reported, a clipboard resting in his lap. He heard Rei breathe in deeply through her nose, her anger palpable like sparks in the air. “You’re aware of what will happen next, I presume.” He shook his head. “No. You know damn well what’s going to happen since your scheme failed.”

The Children of Utsuro had not been able to resurrect the one who granted them Fortune. They had failed, plain and simple. Peering to his right, he found the still body of Teruya Ootori and beyond him was the trembling shell of Hibiki Otonokoji. To his left was Kanade Otonokoji, who had the gall to smile behind the glass as if she was having a pleasant dream instead of the living nightmare she had caused him during the game.

But he knew what was going to happen. He was prepared for it, and reality locked him in place when Ryutaro Maki snatched his shoulder. Nikei winced, feeling his joint crack under Ryutaro’s power. Cold metal was fastened around his wrists, the cuffs tight around his wrinkled sleeves. Blinking, he hardly heard Ryutaro read him his rights, Rei muttering that he deserved none of them when his eyes locked on to an empty pod.

“What happened to him?” Nikei asked as Ryutaro dragged him out of his resting place.

Kinjo leered at him and folded his hands on his clipboard. “You should use a name when you ask a question like that.”

“Yuki Maeda,” he spat, spittle landing on Kinjo’s polished boots. “What happened to Yuki Maeda?”

“Why do you want to know? He wasn’t your Utsuro,” Rei snarled, and he knew it was because of what he had done to Teruya in the game.

“He’s recovering,” Kinjo replied, Rei glowering at him for offering vital information to a criminal.

“Where? Where is he?” Nikei bit back a yelp as Ryutaro clutched his forearms.

Kinjo examined him from head to toe. He felt like a mannequin in a horror game. Constantly watched, being surveyed for sudden movements, Kinjo’s glare made Nikei’s skin crawl. He raised his voice and demanded an answer, but it only made Kinjo’s lips twist into a smirk, as if his frustration provided the leader of the Kisaragi Foundation with much needed amusement.

“You aren’t the first one of your group to ask that. Emma Magorobi also inquired about his...condition,” Kinjo replied, crossing his arms. Light bled in from behind him, the double doors leading to freedom creaking as they opened. He inclined his head towards the doors. “Why not ask him yourself before Ryutaro brings you to your cell?”

Those words damned him, but if he didn’t feel hope from them, Nikei wasn’t sure what would. He lifted his head, half-expecting to see an angel descending from the high heavens. But the brown suit and matted orange hair, the faint black rings underneath his eyes, they were not characteristics of a god.

They were the traits of normal, lucky Yuki Maeda stumbling into the room. He blinked, his mouth dropping open as he stared at Nikei. For a moment, Nikei assumed he would be angry. After all, it had been partially his responsibility for Shinji’s death, and that impact on Yuki had traumatized him during that fateful trial.

“Nikei,” Yuki breathed out as he hurried towards him, “where does it hurt?”

The question made his eyebrows raise. It seemed out of left field to ask that. His journalistic integrity wanted Yuki to clarify what he meant, but his body reacted instinctively. As best as he could under Ryutaro’s grasp, he tilted his head over his shoulder, gesturing at his right hand (which he couldn’t believe was his own, the feeling of his own fingers foreign to him.)

Yuki pivoted to Nikei’s side and touched his wrist. A shiver raced up from Nikei’s hand throughout his body. He felt like pulling away, but that would only cause Ryutaro to strengthen his grip. Yuki withdrew, catching the confusion wrinkling Nikei’s expression, and he offered the kindest smile he could muster.

“Just...so there aren’t any phantom pains,” he said, scratching his cheek. “I gave Emma a hug when her body started having them, so I thought I’d pass a little Fortune on to you so you wouldn’t have to feel them.”

His hand sizzled. Warmth built from the jutting bone of his wrist to his fingertips. He flexed them, ensuring himself that they were attached. He sucked in a breath, his clothes sagging off of him, feeling thinner than usual, but when he stared at Yuki, whose eyes were filled with forgiveness, he felt like the world was rebuilding around him even when Ryutaro brought him away.

At least Yuki walked with him to his holding cell, where Emma smiled and waved at him. It made him feel a little less alone and a little more loved.


	31. Last Chance to Back Out - Hajime/Nikei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikei presents Hajime with a question, but they are already too deep in to be pulled out. Requested by a tumblr anon who asked for "are you ready?" from a question prompt list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Pre-Canon, Uncertainty, Questioning, Tumblr Prompt, Worry, Concern, Unresolved Ending

The pod seemed cold. Just looking at his caused a chill to race up Hajime’s spine. To him, it appeared like a metallic coffin, the rounded exterior and glass casing doing him no favors.

When he raised his head, he found the others sequestered in their tombs. To his left was the counselor with dull brown hair matted to her forehead. To his right was the singer whose cheeks glistened from tears which she had shed before being forced inside by him. It was not like her reaction mattered. They were simply casualties who would be resurrected by Fortune as promised by Mikado, so how they were when they were thrust into the pods simply did not matter.

He trekked around the curve of the pods. His stomach twitched when he spotted the still body of the former mastermind. Her hair seemed snow white to match her deathly pale skin, but upon closer inspection, he realized her long locks were truly gray. As if one moment of pure stress had caused all of her hair to lighten in a heartbeat, the mastermind was a hollow shell of her former self.

“Poor girl,” Nikei said, his words and footsteps announcing his presence. He approached Hajime from behind, his notepad clutched in hand. Tapping his pen to the paper, he inspected her and shook his head. “To think she was the one who failed to protect Master Utsuro. What a wench.”

“Pretty harsh words considering she helped him mastermind a killing game,” Hajime countered, to which Nikei shrugged.

“Still her fault why we have to go through this.” He scribbled something down and dramatically flicked his wrist, ink practically flying off the top of his pen when he finished. Stuffing them in his pocket, he gripped his hips and raised his head. He flicked his gaze up and down, Hajime curling his lip at Nikei’s silence and wondering what brought on the sudden inspection.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” he snapped, and Nikei snorted, glancing at the corner of the room.

“Sheesh, you’re so testy. You feeling anxious?” he asked, but Hajime did not reply. He sighed. “I was just sizing you up so I could ask you something.”

Nikei asking questions was not unusual. Considering his journalistic integrity, every other sentence out of his mouth was an inquiry. If he was not asking the tough questions, then he was jotting down direct quotes or clarifying information for his latest scoop.

“Are you ready?” Nikei asked without missing a beat.

Hajime blinked, his glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose. The question hung between them. It felt oddly loaded, like he had taken a punch right to his neck. His lungs deflated, forcing air past his chapped lips as Nikei focused on his reaction, wordlessly awaiting an answer.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, scratching his neck and forcing himself to stare right in Nikei’s visible eye.

Nikei narrowed his gaze. He drummed his fingers on his hip and gazed at the pods. The bodies presented to them only a couple indications of life: the pulses fluttering in the necks and the slow rise and fall of their chests.

“We don’t have to do this,” Nikei remarked, fiddling with the brim of his hat.

“But we have to. All of us agreed that we would,” Hajime asserted, and Nikei snorted, nose wrinkling.

He stepped past him and set his hand to Hajime’s broad forearm. Hajime repressed a shiver, leering at his fellow Void, his pupils dilating. Nikei was not one for casual touch and preferred his distance, so for him to connect with him on a physical level had his heart thumping.

“Let’s...just be wary,” Nikei said, peering up Hajime.

“We know what we’re getting involved with, so there’s no need to be wary,” he retorted, undercutting Nikei’s rare gentleness.

He left his fingers trail down Hajime’s rough skin and scoffed. “Sure, you can say that.”

He watched Nikei leave, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent room. As the doors shut, Hajime swallowed his pride and gripped his arm, savoring the cool, lingering touch of Nikei’s palm. Surrounded by victims, he realized he already missed the sound of Nikei’s breathing and gasped.

He wondered what it would have been like if he had listened to Nikei from the very beginning. If he was truly ready, then he would not say, for Nikei had fueled his uncertainty for a reason he could not understand.


	32. In Her Dreams, She Will Finally Cry - Sora/Yoruko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoruko listens to Sora whisper in her sleep, her words dripping with regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Post-Canon, Alternate Canon, Nightmares, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Nightmares
> 
> please read: these sora/yoruko stories were originally a part of the collection and written before the final chapter of sdra2. at the time when i deleted them after reading the last chapter and seeing the age twist, i reacted too quickly and did not realize that sora was an adult during the events of sdra2. this situation is different compared to how i immediately deleted the hajime/shinji fics upon learning shinji was actually 50 while hajime was in high school. when i had written those fics, i was not aware that shinji was already an adult (around 20 i believe) when i got into sdra2 and assumed his situation was like nidai, being that he was a character who looked older but was really the same age as the other high schoolers. i incorrectly assumed she was a minor in the vein of hajime when she is not. i've decided to reupload these fics with that new information in mind. if i am wrong, please let me know, and i will take down this fics.
> 
> originally written: 10/9/19.

Yoruko tried her best not to shiver. The slightest movement would have roused Sora. She sat with clenched fists on the docks, overlooking the ocean with her feet dipped in the cool water. She felt the waves lap at her ankles and listened as they pressed against the shore, leaving behind white foam and seaweed when she glanced at the island.

But while the sight would have calmed a troubled mind, hers was filled with chaos. Screams waged war in her brain. Thoughts were like cannons, shooting back and forth, an endless cacophony in her head.

She dipped her chin to her chest and felt heat blossom in her cheeks. Raising her hand, the urge to caress Sora’s silky locks fluttered in her mind. It was swiftly shot down by a voice in the back of her head screaming that she shouldn’t make any move.

When Sora had fallen asleep in her lap, Yoruko almost shrieked. It took all of her willpower to suppress it, filling her lungs with enough air that they could have burst. She had seen the dark circles under Sora’s eyes, prompting her to ask Sora if she wanted to sit with her at the docks, but in her wildest dreams, she never would have thought such a storybook scene awaited her.

She watched the slow rise and fall of Sora’s chest. She wondered how nice it would have been hearing her heartbeat, but she shook her head. It wasn’t the time to be daydreaming. She had to be perfectly still in order for Sora to slumber, which Yoruko knew she desperately needed.

Still, the temptation to run her fingers through Sora’s hair sparked in her mind. Her voice of reason tried taking charge, but her hand refused to comply. Her fingers hovered near Sora’s ponytail, the wind gently blowing through the tresses as if to tease Yoruko, whose blush only deepened.

“...suro.”

Yoruko’s hand shot to her chest. Her eyes widened, the name sounding as if the wind had carried it. She looked over her shoulder, spotting no one on the shore. She knew Setsuka and the twins had been making sand castles behind them, and it seemed like they were long gone, the waves having claimed their once regal castle decorated with colorful seashells into a wet pile of slush.

“Ut...suro.”

The name was like an assault on her senses. She felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. Her brain buzzed, but she couldn’t understand why. Swallowing, she forced herself to stare at the source of the strange name.  
Sora’s lips moved. Imperceptible words were said to the one in her dreams. Yoruko’s heart dropped into her stomach as she said his name once again, a strained quality carrying her vowels.

Whoever Utsuro had been to her, he must have been an important part of her life. Perhaps he was her forgotten brother. Maybe he was a close friend. She could have shared many ties to this “Utsuro,” and Yoruko wasn’t sure if it was her place to wake Sora up to ask.

She bit her tongue as Sora stirred. Leaning forward, she examined her face. A quiet gasp split past her teeth, and she pulled back, gripping the docks with white-knuckled intensity. Her chest heaved, and she stared ahead at the sky which seemed endless, filled with graying clouds.

Tears rolled down Sora’s cheeks and landed on her dress. Yoruko swallowed her fear and gently smoothed Sora’s hair out of her face. She cupped her long locks behind her ear, Sora’s shuddering causing her entire body to quiver.

“...ry.”

“Sora?” Yoruko whispered, her heart skipping a beat.

“‘m...ry…”

She strained her ears to listen and furrowed her brow.

“...sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

She felt like a knife had plunged into her heart. Sora repeated that mantra as she wept, twisting Yoruko’s agony even further. Her expression was purely neutral, but her tone quivered with regret like Yoruko had never heard.

“Whatever it is, I forgive you,” Yoruko murmured, and Sora continued apologizing to the ones in her dream. She closed her eyes, her own quiet tears slipping down her cheeks. A gale of wind beat their backs, but Yoruko shielded Sora and wrapped her arms around her, promising to protect her from whoever haunted her nightmares.


	33. Both Sides of You - Sora/Yoruko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sora comes to accept herself with a little push from Yoruko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Post-Canon, Alternate Canon, Established Relationship, Love, Acceptance
> 
> originally written: 10/13/19.

Under the moonlight, that hand certainly belonged to her. The way she could see her knuckles pressing against her skin confirmed it was her hand. Faint red and blue veins pulsed underneath her skin, which she noted was paler than usual. Her fingernails retained a gentle polish from Emma’s nail care treatment, but that couldn’t erase the callouses on her palms from how hard she worked over the years.

Sora lowered her hand back to her chest. She felt the breeze caress her, her curtains quietly billowing. Her blankets were warmer than she expected, and she knew it was because of Yoruko. Glancing over to her, she had to smile when she faced long, silky locks of pink hair, the roots showing their true dark colors. Yoruko slept on her side, allowing Sora to lean over and look upon her peaceful face as she slumbered, a sight far more comfortable than inspecting her hand.

Settling back in the sheets, she fixed her pillow and withheld a sigh. Digging her fingernails into her palms, she pursed her lips. She couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep for the past hour. Yoruko had already fallen asleep, and she wasn’t going to wake her girlfriend up at the stroke of midnight just to talk. Left alone to her thoughts, Sora found herself gazing at her hands, which had been worked to the bone for too many arduous years.

Those hands belonged to Akane Taira and herself. Those hands had cleaned, swept, cooked, and had done so many more treacherous things. Sora remembered what her hands had done, formulating a killing game where innocents died, all of them whom she had considered her dearest friends.

On nights like these, she heard Akane’s voice, and she knew it was her own. She told herself that she shouldn’t be how she was currently. She needed to be working for Utsuro, serving his whim regardless of his intentions. Lying in bed, recovering from the second killing game, she told herself that it was not her role or her place to be resting when Utsuro lay dormant, sleeping within her dear friend Yuki.

But she knew those were bold-faced lies. She deserved her happiness and so did Yuki. He didn’t want to be Utsuro, and Utsuro didn’t want to return. Sora accepted that. Akane refused. Sora and Akane waged war in their mind, refuting each other, their memories clashing and overlapping, causing Sora to stare wide-eyed at the ceiling and listen to Yoruko’s breathing.

“Are you still awake?”

She winced. “You weren’t sleeping.”

Yoruko rolled over. She laced her fingers on top of the shirt she borrowed from Sora. Smoothing her hair behind her ear, she said, “It’s easy to mask my breathing. Helps me trick you.” She leaned over and pecked Sora’s cheek, a smile playing on her lips. “What are you still doing awake? You went to bed earlier than I did.”

“Just...thinking.” Sora fiddled with the hem of her pajama shorts.

“About yourself?”

Sora clicked her tongue and closed her eyes. “Are you an ESPer?”

Chuckling, Yoruko wrapped her arm over Sora’s chest and cupped her shoulder. Pulling herself closer, she said, “It’s okay to be conflicted.”

“I know, Yoruko. I…” Sora uttered a sigh. “I keep arguing with her-with me, I mean. I keep arguing with myself.” She rapped her knuckles against her forehead. “My thoughts are in disarray. I want to do one thing, but I’ll then want to do something else, something more in line with Akane’s train of thought. Er, I mean, with my other train of thought. We’ll argue, actually, what I meant to say was, God…” She groaned. “...I don’t know what I want.”

Yoruko’s expression softened, filled with sympathy. Sora knew the topic was difficult. She had trouble understanding it, especially since it was about herself. Her life was a mess of memories gathered from two different people meshed into a single person.

“Can I call you Akane?”

She sucked a gasp through her teeth and stiffened. Her eyes widened as Yoruko stroked her cheek. She slowly nodded.

“Akane, it’s okay to be Sora,” Yoruko said, “and Sora, it’s okay to be Akane. You’re both one person.” She kissed her forehead, her warm breath lingering on her brow. “I love you, Akane Taira, and I love you, Sora. I love both sides of you.”

“Akane,” Sora whispered, touching her mouth. “I am...Sora. I am also Akane Taira.”

“How about I call you...Sorakane?” Yoruko teased, Sora rolling her eyes.

“Not likely. That sounds like a fake name anyway.” Shifting on to her side, she ran her fingers through Yoruko’s hair. “I’m Akane. I’m Sora. I’m both of them combined.”

“That’s my Sorakane.”

“The name’s not going to stick.”

Yoruko snickered. “How blunt.” She quickly yanked the blankets over both of them, exclaiming, “Now, come on, let’s try to sleep! I have an early morning shift tomorrow.”

Chuckling, Sora nestled closer to Yoruko and breathed in the strawberry scent wafting from her hair. She definitely had the best taste when it came to shampoo, calming instantly as she snuggled with her.

_At least that’s something I can wholly agree about,_ Akane Taira thought, smiling to herself as she drifted off to sleep, her arms wrapped around Yoruko’s soft stomach.


End file.
